THE 

MISDEMEANORS 


ELEANOR  HOYT 


/ 


The  Misdemeanors  of  Nancy 


.  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


1 A  vision  in  a  soft .  shimmering  pink  gown  and  hood  stood  in 
the  doorway  " 


The  Misdemeanors 
of  Nancy 

By 

Eleanor  Hoyt 

ILLUSTRATED    BY   PENRHYN    STANLAWS 


NEW   YORK 
DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &   CO. 

1902 


Copyright,  1901,  by 

The  Sun  Printing 

&  Publishing  Association 

Copyright,  1901,  1901,  by 
John  Wanamaker 

Copyright,  1901,  by 
Doubleday,  Page  &  Co. 

Published  April,  looz 


&s  iKanfjattan 
Ntto  gorfc,  iS.  S.  a. 


Most  of  the  material  in  this  book  has 
appeared  serially  in  The  New  Yor* 
Sun  and  in  Everybody's  Magaxlne 


213053S 


CONTENTS 


PACK 


THE  DISREPUTABLE  YOUNG  PERSON  :     .        3 
AN  INTRODUCTION 


I.  A  DUMB-WAITER  DRAMA    ...  7 

II.  A  LESSON  IN  DEMOCRACY    .    .    .  33 

III.  VICARIOUS  FLIRTATION  ....  53 

IV.  A  GOOD  LIE  GONE  WRONG      .    .  73 
V.  MISTAKEN  DIAGNOSIS     ....  93 

VI.  OUT  OF  THE  WEST      .....  113 

VII.  A  LOVE  SOUVENIR      .....  *35 

VIII.  WHERE  FRIENDSHIP  CEASES    .    .  151 

IX.  A  TOUCHDOWN  .......  169 

X.  TOURING  IN  BOHEMIA    .    .    .    .  191 

XI.  THE  WAY  OF  A  WOMAN  :     .    .    .  213 

A  FINISH. 


vii 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING  PAGE 

A  vision  in  a  soft,  shimmering  pink  gown  and 

hood  stood  in  the  doorway       .     .       Frontispiece 

Nancy  looked  hurt 20 

The  door  was  opened  by  a  vision   .....  40 

"  I  '11  call  Mrs.  Winston,  sir  " 42 

"  I  Ve  changed  my  mind,"  said  the  Baronet      .  50 

"  But  where  did  you  know  him  so  well  ?  "  per 
sisted  the  man  who  came  often     ....  74 

"  I  may  have  my  faults,"  said  Nancy,  "  but  at 

any  rate  I  have  no  vanity  " 94 

"  But  he  made  considerable  progress  while  he 

was  here,"  twinkled  Nancy 114 

"  Nasty  temper  these  Southern  men  have,"  said 

Nancy 140 

"  Mr.  Rollins  lives  here  ?  " 156 

"  I  'm  afraid  it  would  be  very  improper  "      .     .  164 

"Aunt   Maria     .     .     .     has  the   endurance  of 

the  early  martyrs" 174 

"  Jimmy,  my  favorite  caddy  " 178 

"  Aunt  Maria  a  close  second  " 182 

"With  a  fine  disregard  of  conventional  prej 
udice"       184 

The  man  who  came  often 194 


THE    DISREPUTABLE   YOUNG 
PERSON 


THE   DISREPUTABLE  YOUNG 
PERSON 

AN    INTRODUCTION 

ONE  could  hardly  approve  of  her.  It 
was  easy  to  adore  her.  If  the  Fates 
had  offered  Nancy  the  choice  of  being  ap 
proved  or  adored,  she  would  have  chosen 
the  latter,  without  an  instant's  hesitation ; 
so,  on  the  whole,  matters  were  satisfactorily 
arranged. 

Nancy's  parents  had  their  moments  of 
protest.  The  young  woman  was  indul 
gent  yet  firm  with  the  malcontents.  She 
pointed  out  to  them  that,  after  all,  she  was 
the  victim  of  circumstances  for  which  they 
were  responsible. 

"  When  a  Kentucky  belle  marries  a  New 
Hampshire  lawyer,  there  are  rocks  ahead 
for  coming  generations,"  she  reasoned,  hav 
ing  settled  herself  upon  the  arm  of  her 
father's  chair  and  rumpled  his  gray  hair  into 
hopeless  untidiness. 

3 


4         THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  Given  Kentucky  impulses  and  a  New 
Hampshire  conscience,  what  can  one  do  ? 
You  really  should  n't  expect  much  of  me. 

"  Now,  if  Daddy  had  married  one  of  his 
neighbors,  I  would  be  frostily  sewing  flannels 
for  missionary  boxes.  If  the  little  mother 
had  married  any  one  of  the  six  men  to 
whom  she  was  engaged  during  her  first  sea 
son  in  society,  I  would  have  caught  fire  and 
flamed  into  matrimony  before  I  was  twenty. 
As  it  is  my  New  Hampshire  head  keeps  my 
Kentucky  heart  from  running  away  with  me ; 
and  my  Kentucky  heart  keeps  my  New 
Hampshire  head  from  reasoning  me  into  a 
marriage  for  revenue  only. 

"  I  wash  my  hands  of  it.  You  two  dear 
things  are  responsible.  I  'm  tremendously 
sorry  I  can't  marry  ineligibility  to  please  my 
self  or  eligibility  to  please  you, — but  there 
you  are. 

"  Daddy,  do  you  know  you  are  altogether 
beautiful  with  a  fringe  ?  " 

The  discussion  ended  with  Nancy's  being 
kissed.  Discussions  in  which  Nancy  takes 
part  often  end  that  way.  Frequently  they 
begin  with  the  same  formula. 


A  DUMB-WAITER  DRAMA 


A  DUMB-WAITER  DRAMA 

TT  was  while  Nancy's  family  were  in  Florida 
*  that  she  and  Priscilla  shared  lodgings. 
They  went  the  dreary  round  of  boarding- 
houses.  Each  new  hall  bedroom  was  an 
additional  sinker  tied  to  the  spirits  of  the 
two  girls.  Priscilla  grew  morbid  and  found 
it  necessary  to  take  a  nerve  tonic.  Even 
Nancy,  the  irrepressible,  lost  her  appetite 
and  her  gayety  and  became  embittered. 
The  sight  of  any  of  the  many  bachelor 
apartment  houses  scattered  through  the 
town  moved  her  to  impotent  rage. 

"  My  disposition  is  ruined,"  she  confessed 
dismally;  "when  I  pass  one  of  those  bach 
elor  apartment  places  where  unworthy  men 
can  get  all  the  joys  of  paradise  for  $50  a 
month,  I  'm  like  a  mad  dog  who  sees  water. 
I  positively  froth  at  the  mouth.  I  '11  marry 
the  first  bachelor  who  asks  me,  for  the 
sake  of  getting  even  with  him.  As  if  petti 
coats  were  n't  curse  enough  without  adding 
hall  bedrooms  to  woman's  lot !  " 


8         THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

Just  at  the  critical  moment  when  suicide, 
matrimony,  and  boarding-house  existence 
were  the  courses  being  weighed  in  the  minds 
of  the  forlorn  young  women,  the  patron 
saint  of  bachelor  girls,  who  works  over  hours 
and  must  doze  at  times,  woke  up.  He  is  a 
saint  of  expedients.  He  has  to  be.  He 
could  n't  hold  down  his  job  or  his  halo  if  he 
were  not. 

He  inspired  a  young  married  couple  who 
owned  a  three-room  apartment  on  a  quiet 
downtown  street  with  a  wild  longing  for 
European  travel.  Then  he  led  the  wife  and 
Nancy,  who  were  old  friends,  into  the  shop 
ping  district  and  threw  them  into  each  other's 
arms  at  a  bargain  counter.  They  told  their 
life  stories  from  the  time  of  their  last  meeting 
two  months  before  up  to  date. 

They  had  seats  at  the  counter,  so  the 
women  who  were  standing  eight  deep  and 
struggling  for  a  chance  at  the  saleswoman 
didn't  bother  them,  and  they  could  chat 
lazily. 

The  young  wife  confided  her  plans  for  a 
European  trip.  Nancy  sighed  forth  the 
story  of  her  quest  of  the  unattainable.  Then 
they  tumbled  the  remnants  on  the  counter 
until  the  patron  saint  brought  the  young 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY         9 

wife  up  with  a  round  turn.  He  could  n't 
waste  time.  She  gave  the  little  cackle  that 
in  certain  feminine  types  always  accom 
panies  the  laying  of  an  idea. 

"  Oh  my  dear,  why  not  ?" 

"  Then,  again,  why  ? — and  what  ?  "  asked 
Nancy,  flippantly. 

"  Oh,  it 's  the  loveliest  idea ! " 

"  Is  n't  it  just,"  assented  Nancy  raptur 
ously. 

"  There  's  no  reason  why  you  should  n't." 

"  None  in  the  world,"  agreed  Nancy. 

"Then  it 'sail  settled?" 

"  It  is,"  admitted  Nancy,  with  a  sugges 
tion  of  sarcasm;  "and  now,  since  it  is  all 
settled,  would  you  mind  telling  me  what  it 
is." 

The  young  wife  looked  surprised. 

"  Why,  don't  you  understand  ?  Can't  you 
guess  ?  " 

"  I  could,"  asserted  Nancy,  "but  I  never 
guess  more  than  three  things  before  luncheon 
and  I  've  had  my  three." 

"  You  and  Priscilla  will  just  take  our 
rooms.  We  'd  have  to  pay  for  them,  any 
way,  and  you  can  pay  a  little  part  of  the 
rent  for  the  use  of  the  furniture  and  things. 
It 's  the  dearest  little  place,  and  you  '11  have 


to       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

such  a  lark !  Come  right  down  and  see 
about  things  and  tell  Jack." 

"  Maybe  Jack  would  n't  like  it." 

The  young  wife's  eyebrows  surged  to 
ward  her  pompadour. 

"  Now,  really,  my  dear,  do  you  suppose  I 
have  n't  started  him  better  than  that  ?  " 

The  two  women  made  a  flying  wedge 
through  the  bargain  fiends  and  scurried 
downtown  to  a  fine  old  house  which  had 
been  remodelled  for  a  use  unknown  to  New 
York  until  a  few  years  ago.  The  suites  of 
three,  four,  or  five  rooms  are  artistic  to  a 
degree  unknown  in  the  ordinary  flat ;  there 
is  a  dining-room  with  each  suite,  but  no 
kitchen.  Not  even  a  trace  of  culinary  ap 
paratus  is  in  sight. 

All  meals  are  cooked  in  the  kitchen  in  the 
basement  and  sent  up  on  dumb-waiters  to 
the  different  apartments,  where  the  maid 
employed  by  the  owner  of  the  rooms  serves 
the  meal,  and  then  piles  the  dishes  on  the 
dumb-waiter  and  sends  them  down  to  the 
kitchen  to  be  washed  and  put  away. 

It  is  privacy  and  home  life  made  easy,  a 
deification  of  the  English  lodging-house 
system  to  which,  in  its  humbler  form,  New 
York  has  never  taken  kindly. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       n 

Jack  was  complaisant  to  a  degree  that 
spoke  volumes  for  his  wife's  discipline.  The 
proprietor  of  the  house  was  interviewed  and 
went  down  before  Nancy's  beaux  yeux. 

The  meals  were  the  only  stumbling-block. 
They  were  elaborate.  The  menus  were 
wonderfully  and  fearfully  constructed  by  an 
expensive  French  chef,  and  the  meals,  like 
the  chef,  came  high. 

"  We  can  arrange  it,"  said  the  affable  land 
lord,  moved  by  Nancy's  disappointed  upper 
lip.  "It  is  exceptional.  It  must  not  be 
told.  I  have  never  allowed  such  an  arrange 
ment,  but  this  is  for  a  short  time,  and  I  like 
to  accommodate  my  tenants." 

"  And  Nancy  is  so  infernally  pretty," 
added  Jack  sotto  voce. 

"  Can  you  put  up  with  a  continental  break 
fast  ?  "  asked  the  landlord. 

Nancy  could. 

"  Coffee,  rolls,  butter,  eggs.  That  will  do, 
then.  Our  regular  breakfast  has  six  courses. 
Now  about  luncheon."  We  have  also  a  six- 
course  luncheon. 

"  Two  courses  would  do  for  us,"  said 
Nancy,  humbly. 

"  To  be  sure.  The  chef  can  send  up  the 
menu  early,  and  you  can  choose.  Then, 


12       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

from  the  nine-course  dinner,  you  might 
choose  three  courses.  You  could  live  so  ?  " 

Nancy  thought  that  she  might  drag  out 
a  starving  existence  on  that  provision.  Then 
she  beamed  upon  the  benevolent  landlord, 
and  the  patron  saint,  feeling  that  he  had 
done  his  duty,  pulled  his  halo  on  firmly  and 
started  off  to  attend  to  the  other  bachelor 
girls.  He  had  provided  Nancy  with  the 
time  and  the  place  and  the  man.  He  knew 
she  could  manage  the  rest. 

So  the  young  married  couple  moved  out, 
and  Nancy  and  Priscilla  moved  in ;  and  this 
is  really  where  the  story  begins,  though  a 
long  preamble  seemed  a  necessary  evil. 

The  girls  had  no  maid.  They  could  n't 
afford  one,  and  they  felt  themselves  strong 
enough  to  take  the  dishes  from  the  dumb 
waiter  to  the  table.  When  this  arrange 
ment  was  noised  abroad  the  hall  boy  assumed 
a  condescending  air,  and  the  general 
house  servants  displayed  a  sort  of  haughty 
curiosity  if  they  met  the  new  tenants  in  the 
hall.  Nancy  was  amused,  but  indignant. 

"  I  must  reason  with  that  hall-boy,"  she 
said  sweetly.  "  I  don't  like  his  manner." 

She  reasoned.  Inside  of  a  week,  the  hall- 
boy  courted  pneumonia,  on  the  front  steps, 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        13 

watching  for  her  to  come  home  ;  and  when 
she  hove  in  sight,  darted  inside  the  door 
and  looked  as  if  he  had  swallowed  all  his 
buttons  and  were  choking  on  them. 

During  the  first  few  days,  the  meals  came 
up  in  rather  higgledy-piggledy  fashion.  A 
severe-faced  Irish  girl  put  them  on  the  dumb 
waiter  and  jerked  them  up  to  the  second 
floor,  in  an  emphatic  way  that  spoke  volumes 
for  her  opinion  of  young  women  who  waited 
upon  themselves.  But,  on  the  third  evening, 
the  girls  heard  a  masculine  voice  calling  up 
through  the  dumb-waiter  to  the  maid  on  the 
third  floor. 

"  You  do  not  come  down  zis  day,"  said  the 
reproachful  voice,  in  accents  French.  "  You 
are  offend?  Yes?  and  I  am  dtsolt" 

Nancy  dropped  her  soup-spoon  and  list 
ened  shamelessly. 

"  But  it  was  nossing.  I  did  not  mean  to 
offend,"  the  voice  said. 

"  Take  shame  to  yersilf  for  kissin'  a  girl 
without  say  in'  by  your  leave." 

"It  would  be  a  more  shame  to  ask  for  ze 
leave,  is  it  not  ?  " 

Nancy  arose  with  a  gleam  of  battle  in  her 
eye. 

"  Priscilla,"  she  said  sternly,  "  this  is  where 


i4       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

I  reason  with  the  chef.  Something  tells  me 
that  he  will  be  amenable  to  reason,  if  rightly 
approached." 

A  moment  later  the  up-gazing  Frenchman 
saw  between  him  and  the  offended  Irish 
maid  a  vision  that  made  even  his  white  cap 
quiver.  A  fluff  of  golden-brown  hair,  spark 
ling  gray  eyes,  flushed  cheeks,  dimples,  a 
smile  that  would  thaw  a  Teuton — what  could 
a  Frenchman  do  ? 

"  You  are  the  chef  ?  "  asked  a  voice  that 
would  stir  the  soul  of  a  clam. 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle,"  stammered  the 
dazed  Frenchman. 

If  that  voice  had  told  him  he  was  a  Hot 
tentot  chieftain  he  would  have  admitted  the 
soft  impeachment  without  a  protest. 

"  I've  wanted  so  much  to  speak  to  you,"- 
cooed  the  vision.  "  You  see  I  am  one  of  the 
young  ladies  who  have  taken  Mrs.  Blank's 
apartment  for  a  little  while.  We  are  just 
doing  it  for  fun  while  our  people  are  away, 
and  we  have  n't  any  maid  and  we've  ar 
ranged  to  take  only  a  part  of  the  menu,  but 
things  have  n't  been  quite  nice,  you  know." 

"  Ah,  mademoiselle  !  "  with  anguish  in  the 
tone. 

"  Oh,    it  is  n't  your    fault      Things    are 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        15 

deliciously  cooked.  That  pate  last  night ! 
Such  another  was  never  made  outside  of 
Paris  ;  but  you  see  things  come  up  cold,  and 
they  are  n't  daintily  served,  and  the  menu 
is  n't  sent  up  for  us  to  choose  from.  I 
thought  you  would  make  it  all  right,  and 
now  that  I  've  seen  you,  I  'm  quite  sure  you 
will." 

"  But,  mademoiselle,  eet  ees  my  privilege. 
I  am  unhappy  to  the  heart  zat  it  has  so  hap 
pened.  I  go  to  change  it  all.  Alphonse 
shall  arrange.  I  shall  overlook  eet  myself." 

"  You  are  so  very  good,"  murmured  the 
vision. 

"  Mademoiselle,  it  is  you  who  are  good,  to 
gif  me  ze  happiness  to  serve  you." 

A  whistle  blew  in  the  kitchen.  The  white- 
capped  head  disappeared.  Nancy  went  back 
to  her  soup. 

"  Priscilla,"  she  said,  meditatively,  "  some 
thing  tells  me  that  the  next  course  will  be 
hot." 

It  was. 

The  next  morning  when  Nancy  whistled 
down  for  breakfast  the  chef  answered. 

"  Good-morning,  mademoiselle.  You  have 
slept  well,  ees  eet  not?  I  will  send  ze 
dejeuner  at  once." 


16       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

The  breakfast-tray  came  up  a  thing  of 
beauty.  Toast  and  muffins  came  with  the 
rolls,  the  eggs  were  apotheosized  in  a  mush 
room  omelet,  the  cream  pitcher  had  multi 
plied  its  size  by  two,  and  a  pot  of  marmalade 
made  its  debut. 

"  Priscilla,"  said  Nancy,  as  she  eyed  the 
tray,  "  reason  is  a  wonderful  thing,  and  it  is 
unquestionably  better  developed  in  the 
masculine  mind  than  in  the  feminine.  I 
have  always  noticed  that,  in  my  experience. 
We  women  have  intuition,  but  when  I  must 
appeal  to  reason  give  me  a  man  to  deal  with. 
Did  you  ever  study  psychology,  Priscilla? 
Experimental  psychology  should  be  a  part 
of  every  girl's  education.  It  broadens  her 
scope.  It  will  stand  by  her  when  French 
and  music  fail  her." 

She  moved  her  napkin  impressively. 
Priscilla  looked  mildly  speculative.  When 
Nancy  becomes  didactic  she  is  most  edify 
ing. 

"  Still,"  she  added  musingly,  a  few  mo 
ments  later,  "  there  may  be  emergencies  in 
life  in  which  a  knowledge  of  colloquial 
French  is  not  to  be  despised." 

That  night  when  she  looked  down  at  the 
impressionable  chef  and  asked  for  the  menu, 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        17 

she  spoke  to  him  in  his  own  language,  spoke 
soft  Parisian  French,  with  only  an  adorable 
little  struggle  over  the  r's  to  hint  at  her 
being  an  alien. 

"  Quelle  ange"  murmured  the  demoralized 
Frenchman. 

"It  is  always  well,  Priscilla,  to  give  a 
^fellow  human  being  simple  pleasure  when 
one  can,"  said  Nancy  later.  "  And  then, 
presumably,  the  Irish  girls  at  the  other 
dumb-waiter  slides  do  not  understand  the 
language  of  la  belle  France.  What  a  boon 
education  is  to  woman !  Shall  we  have 
oysters  and  fish  and  roast,  or  soup  and  entree 
and  dessert,  or  salad  and  roast  and  fruit  ? 
This  rule  of  three  is  crazing  my  poor  brain." 

The  dinner  came  up.  It  began  with 
oysters  and  when  the  roast  had  been  dis 
cussed  the  girls  proceeded  to  clear  up  the 
table.  The  waiter  whistle  sounded.  Nancy 
opened  the  slide.  A  silver  dish  of  chestnut 
and  lettuce  salad  confronted  her. 

"  Eet  ees  after  ze  fagon  of  ze  Cafe  An 
glais,"  said  a  voice  from  the  lower  regions. 

"  Delicious  !  "  gushed  Nancy. 

But  when  the  salad  was  finished  there 
came  another  whistle,  and  a  wonderful 
strawberry  cream  dawned  upon  the  second 


i8       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

floor  back.  The  girls  looked  at  each  other. 
There  was  guilt  on  Nancy's  countenance. 
Priscilla  wore  a  severe  expression. 

"  You  don't  suppose  he  is  going  to  keep  it 
up,  do  you  ?  "  demanded  Priscilla,  sternly. 

"Oh,  no,  of  course  not.  He's  merely 
trying  to  make  up  for  past  indignities  and 
save  the  reputation  of  the  kitchen,"  said 
Nancy,  with  a  cheerful  innocence  that 
seemed  almost  too  perfect. 

Then  Priscilla,  in  her  turn,  became  di 
dactic. 

"  Moderation,  my  dear  young  friend,  is 
the  secret  of  happy  living,"  she  said. 

"  Possibly,"  admitted  Nancy.  "  One  lives 
longer,  but  one  does  n't  live  so  well." 

Didactics  invariably  ended  in  unseemly 
mirth  in  the  second  floor  back. 

The  next  morning  two  beautiful  fresh 
pink  roses  adorned  the  breakfast  tray.  No 
one  mentioned  them.  That  night  an  eight- 
course  dinner  came  up.  The  next  day  the 
same  thing  happened. 

"It  must  be  stopped,"  said  Priscilla.  "  I 
feel  as  if  I  had  the  landlord's  spoons  in  my 
pocket." 

"  But  you  would  n't  hurt  the  poor  chef's 
feelings,"  urged  Nancy,  gently. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        19 

"  You  brought  this  thing  on  ;  you  must 
stop  it." 

Nancy  looked  hurt. 

"  Go  to  that  dumb-waiter  and  explain  to 
the  man  that  we  appreciate  his  kindness,  but 
we  can't  eat  what  we  do  not  pay  for,"  said 
Priscilla. 

When  Priscilla  is  determined  she  is  very 
determined. 

"What  I  like  about  you  is  your  fine 
Anglo-Saxon  directness,"  said  Nancy,  enthu 
siastically,  but  she  went  to  the  dumb-waiter 
and  talked  ten  minutes  in  French. 

Priscilla,  who  does  n't  understand  French, 
watched  her  suspiciously. 

"  Well,"  she  demanded. 

"  He  was  deeply  hurt,  desolated.  He 
feared  we  thought  him  presuming.  I  re 
lieved  his  mind.  I  told  him  what  you  said, 
translated  into  polite  French.  He  quite 
understood.  Our  delicacy  of  feeling  touched 
him  to  the  heart.  We  must  rest  tranquil. 
He  will  arrange  everything.  He  will  put 
everything  on  ah  unimpeachable  basis,  and 
we  will  still  live  like  Lucullus  and  his  con 
freres." 

"  Nancy  !  " — distrustfully. 

Nancy  dropped  her  bantering  tone. 


20       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  Now,  look  here,  my  dear.  I  'm  no 
more  fond  of  downright  theft  than  you  are. 
I  dislike  this  thing  as  much  as  you  do.  I 
will  not  have  it,  and  I  made  the  chef  under 
stand  that ;  but  I  did  n't  heave  a  brick  at 
him  or  hit  him  with  an  axe. 

"  I  have  n't  the  faintest  idea  what  he 
means  by  his  arrangement,  and  I  will  not 
allow  anything  that  is  n't  square,  and  if  you 
look  at  me  like  an  accusing  angel  for  one 
more  minute  I  '11  throw  the  coffee  pot  at 
you — there  !  " 

The  conversation  dropped. 

The  breakfast  was  inoffensive,  luncheon 
ditto.  Dinner  was  monumental.  The  girls 
looked  at  it  aghast.  Some  one  tapped  at 
their  door.  Nancy  answered  and  con 
fronted  a  smiling  and  benevolent  landlord. 
She  was  the  picture  of  detected  crime,  and 
inwardly  gave  thanks  that  only  one  course 
at  a  time  was  in  evidence  on  the  table. 

"  I  've  been  talking  to  the  chef,"  said  the 
landlord,  with  the  air  of  a  fat  and  bald  fairy 
godfather.  "  He  tells  me  he  sent  up  a  bit 
of  cream  with  your  dinner  last  night,  and 
you  were  dreadfully  distressed  about  the 
thing.  Now  I  have  given  positive  orders" 
(increased  benevolence  radiating  from 


"  Nancy  looked  hurt " 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       21 

every  pore)  "  that  whenever  he  has  more 
of  anything  nice  than  will  be  used  by  the 
other  diners  he  shall  just  send  that  course 
up  with  your  things." 

"  So  awfully  good  of  you,"  smiled  Nancy, 
"  but  I  don't  feel  right  about  it." 

The  landlord  waved  her  off. 

"  It  is  all  settled.  The  chef  understands, 
and  you  must  leave  the  matter  with  him." 

He  disappeared  in  an  aureole  of  self-satis 
faction. 

Nancy  sat  down  on  the  nearest  chair. 

"  France  is  the  country  of  diplomacy, "she 
said,  with  conviction. 

Just  then  the  chef  sent  up  a  huge  pastry 
heart,  full  of  mocha  cream. 

"  Eet  ees  all  arrange.  Yes,"  he  said, 
cheerfully.  "  I  shall  send  of  what  ees  too 
much.  I  am  command.  Monsieur  he  sink 
eet  ees  all  his  idea  to  himself.  Le  voila. 

"  He  has  been  most  imperatif,  yes.  He 
would  not  zat  I  should  object.  C'est  dom- 
mage,  mais — Eet  ees  necessaire  zat  I  do 
what  I  am  told,  mademoiselle.  You  would 
not  like  zat  I  am  deescharge  for  not  to  obey. 
Eh,  bien  !  Eet  is  settle." 

"  Now,  Priscilla,  what  can  we  do  ?  "  asked 
Nancy. 


22       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"It  's  worse  than  theft  now.  It 's  con 
spiracy,"  groaned  Priscilla. 

"  I  Ve  done  my  best  to  be  honest.  I  call 
the  gods  to  witness  that  I  was  willing  to 
give  up  even  mocha  cream  for  the  sake  of 
moral  integrity,"  protested  Nancy. 

So  the  girls  lived  upon  the  fat  of  the  land. 
There  was  apparently  too  much  of  every 
thing  in  the  kitchen.  Alphonse,  the  cook's 
assistant,  took  on  either  reflected  or  spon 
taneous  fervor.  The  cuisine  circled  around 
the  second  floor  back. 

"  I  shall  have  a  guest  for  dinner  to-night," 
Nancy  would  announce  down  the  dumb 
waiter. 

"  Aliens !  you  shall  be  proud,  mademoi 
selle." 

And  she  was.  The  man  who  came  often 
used  to  make  out  request  programmes  and 
send  them  in,  in  advance.  Nancy  had  but 
to  mention  them  to  the  chef.  When  she 
came  in  late  from  the  theatre,  the  hall-boy 
said  mysteriously  : 

"  Miss,  the  chef  says,  will  you  look  on  the 
dumb-waiter  before  you  go  to  bed." 

A  tray  of  lettuce  sandwiches,  and  cold 
lobster  and  celery  mayonnaise  and  little  birds 
in  aspic  was  there. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       23 

At  afternoon  tea  time  a  whistle  from  the 
kitchen  sounded. 

"  Ze  tartines  for  ze  tea.  Eet  ees  good  so, 
mademoiselle,"  said  the  chef. 

"  Thank  Heaven  we  shall  be  here  only  six 
weeks,"  sighed  Priscilla  of  the  Puritan  con 
science.  "  I  shall  never  feel  honest  again, 
as  long  as  I  live." 

The  six  weeks  went  by  quickly,  and 
Nancy's  family  was  due  on  Monday.  On 
Sunday  she  told  the  amiable  landlord  that 
she  would  be  leaving  the  next  day.  He 
had  been  somewhat  prepared  for  the  blow, 
and  bore  up  nobly ;  but  when  Nancy  took 
the  Sunday  luncheon  from  the  waiter,  an 
agitated  face  appeared  at  the  kitchen 
slide. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  said  the  chef,  in  trem 
bling  French.  "  I  hear  something.  I  hear 
that  you  leave  to-morrow.  It  is  not  so  ? 
No?  It  is?  MonDieu!" 

He  vanished.  Nancy  went  back  to  the 
sitting-room,  looking  thoughtful. 

"  Priscilla,"  she  said  with  a  little  furrow 
between  her  brows,  "  what  was  that  exceed 
ingly  original  and  instructive  remark  of  yours 
about  moderation  ? " 

Priscilla  went   out   for   tea.     Nancy   sat 


24       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

reading  by  a  shaded  lamp.  The  hall-boy 
brought  her  a  card. 

"  Monsieur  Fran9ois  Henri  Veuilliquez," 
she  read  in  a  puzzled  way.  "  Show  the  gen 
tleman  in,"  she  said. 

Then  she  looked  at  the  card  some  more, 
with  an  evident  effort  to  corral  a  fugitive 
memory.  She  had  lived  in  Paris  for  three 
'years.  Had  she  known  this  Frenchman 
there,  or  had  some  Parisian  friend  given  him 
a  card  of  introduction  to  her,  or 

The  door  opened.  A  tall,  handsome 
Frenchman,  in  an  irreproachable  frock  coat, 
stood  bowing  to  her.  Distinguished,  im 
maculate,  graceful,  but  visibly  agitated,  he 
faced  her.  There  was  something  strangely 
familiar  about  him.  She  must  have  known 
him  in  Paris.  How  awkward  that  she  should 
have  forgotten.  She  smiled  a  welcome. 

"Monsieur ?" 

"  Mademoiselle  — 

The  voice  was  more  familiar  than  the  face. 
Nancy  looked  dazed. 

"Mademoiselle—   -" 

Then  a  torrent  of  French  broke  loose  and 
surged  through  the  room.  It  washed  Nancy 
off  her  feet,  and  she  sat  down  limply. 

"  It  is  a  liberty.     You  will  turn  me  away, 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        *$ 

but  it  is  desperate.  You  go.  I  see  you  no 
more.  It  is  to  die.  My  heart  is  torn.  I 
must  speak." 

The  excited  Frenchman  was  on  his  knees 
before  her,  raving,  pleading,  sobbing.  She 
looked  helplessly  toward  the  bell  by  the 
door. 

Mad,  evidently,  quite  mad,  and  there  was 
no  one  she  could  call.  She  must  humor  him 
— humor  him  and  escape.  Heavens,  what 
nonsense  he  talked ;  but  he  was  gentle,  in 
spite  of  his  mania.  He  did  not  touch  her- 
He  only  raved  of  her  hair  and  her  eyes  and 
her  voice  and  his  adoration. 

Where  had  she  seen  him  ?  Where  had 
she  known  him  ?  How  had  it  happened  that 
he  should  come  to  her  ?  She  was  desperately 
frightened,  but  she  pulled  herself  together 
and  smiled  at  him  sweetly. 

"  But  I  cannot  answer  all  this  now,"  she 
said,  with  Machiavellian  strategy.  "  It  is  so 
sudden  ;  you  must  be  patient.  You  will  go 
away  now  and  come  again,  and  I  will  talk  to 
you  then." 

The  kneeling  man  seized  her  hand  and 
covered  it  with  kisses. 

"  Mon  Dieu  !  mon  Dieu !  You  give  me 
hope.  You  are  not  insulted.  You  realize 


26       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

that  I  am  a  man — a  man  and  a  Frenchman. 
Rank !  What  is  that  ?  Moi !  I  am  of 
Rousseau  a  disciple.  It  is  but  to  love.  That 
levels  all.  You  —  you  see  the  man  under 
the  cook." 

"  The  cook  !  " 

Nancy  gave  one  great  gasp  of  comprehen 
sion.  The  handsome,  impassioned  face, 
with  its  dapper  mustache  and  its  imperial, 
framed  itself  in  white  linen  and  stood  out 
against  a  background  of  dumb-waiter  walls. 

Gracious  Heavens  !  The  chef  !  Her  sins 
had  found  her  out  —  and  she  had  told  him 
to  come  again  and  talk  love  to  her !  And 
now,  what  could  she  say  except  the  truth  ? 
She  would  tell  him  she  had  thought  him  a 
lunatic  and  that  she  had  n't  meant  to  encour 
age  him,  and  it  would  be  so  hard  on  him. 

Nancy  hates  making  a  man  unhappy, 
whether  he 's  a  chef  or  a  millionaire.  Still 
she  could  n't  accept  the  chef  to  save  his  feel 
ings.  She  must  say  something. 

There  was  a  rap  on  the  door.  The  patron 
saint  had  wakened  once  more.  The  French 
man  sprang  to  his  feet.  Nancy's  heart 
leaped  for  joy.  She  recognized  the  knock. 

"  Come,"  she  said  faintly,  and  the  man 
who  came  often  stepped  into  the  room. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        27 

He  felt  the  electricity  in  the  air  and 
stopped  short,  looking  at  the  flushed  and 
nervous  Frenchman  with  that  chilly  aggres 
siveness  which  covers  the  Anglo-Saxon  like 
a  garment  when  he  does  not  understand. 
Nancy  shot  one  beseeching,  imploring  glance 
at  him.  Then  she  rose  to  the  occasion. 

"  Bobby,  this  is  Monsieur  Veuillequez. 
He  has  been  a  very  good  friend  to  Priscilla 
and  me.  You  will  want  to  thank  him. 
Monsieur  Veuillequez,  this  is  Mr.  Stanton, 
my  fiance." 

Bobby  gave  one  startled  gasp,  then  looked 
at  Nancy  and  shut  his  mouth  firmly. 

The  Frenchman  bowed  low.  His  face 
was  white  and  his  lips  trembled  under 
the  dapper  mustache,  but  his  manner  was 
intact. 

"  Monsieur  is  to  be  congratulated.  It  is 
an  honor  even  to  be  called  mademoiselle's 
friend.  I  have  the  honor  to  wish  you  both 
good-day." 

He  was  retiring  in  good  order.  Nancy 
looked  at  him  doubtfully,  then  suddenly 
reached  out  her  hand. 

"  Good-by,  monsieur.  I  am  very  grateful 
to  you.  Forgive  me.  I  did  not  dream." 

He   bent   and   kissed   her   hand   with   a 


manner  that  would  have  done  credit  to  a 
marquis  of  the  old  regime. 

"  It  was  I  who  dreamed,  mademoiselle." 

The  door  closed  behind  him.  She  turned 
to  an  irate  Bobby,  who  bristled  with  a  de 
mand  for  explanation. 

"  Pardon  my  taking  liberties  with  you. 
Bobby.  I  wont  carry  it  any  further  and  in 
sist  upon  being  really  engaged  to  you,  and 
he  will  not  spread  the  report.  He 's  not  in 
our  set." 

"  Who  is  the  beggar  ?  If  he  was  annoying 
you,  I  '11  break  - 

"  Oh,  no,  you  wont  break  every  bone  in  his 
body.  You'll  never  see  him  again.  He's 
our  chef." 

The  man  uttered  an  exclamation  that 
sounded  unfit  for  polite  society,  but  Nancy 
created  a  diversion  by  dropping  down  upon 
the  divan  and  beginning  to  cry  hysterically. 

"I'm  a  beast,"  she  sobbed,  "a  wretched 
little  beast,  and  I  '11  never  smile  at  a  man 
again  so  long  as  I  live." 

But  she  did. 

That  night,  as  Priscilla  was  dozing  sleep- 
ward,  Nancy  shook  her  into  attention. 

"  Priscilla,"  she  said  resolutely,  "  I  shall 
never  be  happy  until  I  've  had  a  French 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        29 

count  making  love  to  me.  If  an  ordinary 
Frenchman  can  do  the  thing  so  magnif 
icently,  what,  oh  what,  would  the  nobility 
achieve ! " 


A   LESSON   IN   DEMOCRACY 


II 

A  LESSON  IN  DEMOCRACY 

"  T  TE  's  wild  to  meet  you,"  bubbled  young 

n     Mrs.  Winston. 

Nancy  elevated  her  chin  slightly,  and 
looked  volumes  of  indifference. 

"  English,  you  said  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  matron  rapturously. 

"  And  titled  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes.  Of  course,  he  's  only  a  Bar 
onet,  but  it 's  a  very  good  old  family." 

"  I  don't  care  to  meet  him." 

Nancy's  tone  was  conclusive. 

Mrs.  Winston  gasped. 

"  Why,  Nancy  ?  Refuse  to  meet  a  new 
man  ?  "" 

"  My  dear,  I  Ve  borne  much  at  the  hands 
of  my  married  friends.  I  Ve  helped  them 
entertain  cowboys  and  Indians  and  anar 
chists  and  poets  and  Bostonians.  Whenever 
there  has  been  a  San  Juan  to  storm  I  Ve 
been  called  in  and  have  led  the  charge.  But 
I  must  draw  the  line  somewhere.  In  Eng- 

33 


34       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

land  I  will  do  as  the  English  do.  I  will  flirt 
with  Englishmen  because  there  are  no  other 
men  available — and,  incidentally,  because  the 
English  girls  don't  like  it ;  but,  in  a  land  liter 
ally  flowing  with  masculine  milk  and  honey, 
to  deliberately  devote  an  evening  to  an 
Englishman  ?  Never  !  " 

"  But,  my  dear,  he  's  perfectly  lovely." 
"  Elizabeth,  I  know  that  you  Ve  already 
married  me  to  the  Baronet,  have  been  invited 
to  visit  at  the  castle  (has  he  a  castle  ?),  and 
are  having  tea  /n  the  terrace,  beyond  the 
yew  walk.  But,  my  dear,  you  've  got  to 
tumble  your  luggage  cut  of  that  pink  guest- 
chamber  and  give  up  your  Hunt  Ball.  I 
know  those  Englishmen.  I  Ve  spent  two 
summers  over  there.  I  've  scoured  the 
country  for  the  brilliant,  fascinating  Eng 
lishmen  of  the  novels,  and  the  Englishwomen 
with  French  clothes  and  morals.  I  did  n't 
find  either.  The  Englishman  makes  love 
badly,  and  the  Englishwoman  dresses  badly. 
Neither  can  be  saved.  I  won't  meet  your 
lion.  I  'm  positive  he  could  n't  roar." 
"  But,  Nancy,  I  promised  him." 
''The  moral  of  that  is,  don't  count  your 
Anglomania  before  it  is  hatched." 

"  Nancy,  there  are  times  when — well,  my 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        35 

dear,  when  you  are  actually  a  wee  bit 
vulgar." 

"  I  should  hope  so,"  said  Nancy  cheerfully. 

The  bell  rang  violently.  The  cook  ap 
peared  at  the  library  door,  looking  like  a 
large  wine-jelly  in  imminent  danger  of  col 
lapse. 

"  Shure  it 's  a  letther  the  bye  's  afther 
bringin',"  she  explained. 

Mrs.  Winston  took  the  letter  and  opened 
it.  Horror  wrote  itself  upon  every  line  of 
her  pretty  face,  and  her  fluffy  pompadour 
visibly  rose. 

"  It 's  from  John.  He  's  bringing  him  to 
night." 

"  The  Baronet  ?  " 

"  Yes," 

"  Well,  that 's  good.  If  I  were  you  I  'd 
want  to  have  it  over." 

"  But  Mary  has  gone.  I  Ve  no  maid.  Oh, 
what  an  idiot  John  is  !  " 

"  Can't  Nora  cook  and  serve  too  ?  " 

"  Serve  ? "  Mrs.  Winston's  voice  ex 
pressed  the  scorn  of  scorns.  "  Serve ! 
Look  at  her.  She  'd  fill  the  dining-room 
and  ooze  out  at  the  windows.  There  'd  be 
no  room  for  us.  She  'd  stick  between  the 
chairs  and  the  wall.  She  never  had  on  a 


36        THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

pair  of  corsets  in  her  life.  She  can't  breathe 
with  her  sleeves  rolled  down.  She  'd  drop 
everything  she  touched.  She  does  n't  know 
a  carafe  from  a  giraffe.  She  wheezes  like  a 
grampus.  Would  n't  she  be  a  treat  to  a 
man  who  is  used  to  flunkies  behind  all  the 
chairs  ?  " 

"  She  would,"  agreed  Nancy  fervently. 

"  No  ;  I  '11  have  to  go  and  get  somebody. 
But  there  's  no  time.  Oh,  if  I  had  John 
here  !  My  dear,  don't  ever  marry.  Even 
the  best  men  are  absolutely  devoid  of  con 
sideration  for  their  wives.  Thank  heaven 
the  dinner  is  all  right.  I  ordered  what  I 
knew  you  'd  like.  I  '11  change  the  wines. 
There  's  never  any  use  wasting  good  wine  on 
a  woman.  But  the  maid !  Oh,  Nancy, 
what  shall  I  do  ?  " 

The  woman  who  was  to  entertain  a  live 
Baronet  fell  back  among  the  sofa's  pillows 
and  groaned  aloud. 

"  Well,  it  is  a  pity  to  be  married  to  a 
brute,"  said  Nancy  feelingly. 

That  brought  her  friend  to  a  sitting 
posture. 

"  I  'd  like  to  know  what  you  mean  by  that. 
John  is  the  most  considerate  man  in  the 
world.  It  's  odd  if  a  man  can't  invite  a 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       37 

friend  to  his  own  house.  How  could 
you  expect  a  man  to  remember  domestic 
details  in  the  midst  of  all  his  rush  of  busi 
ness  ?  " 

"  Exactly,"  drawled  Nancy,  with  a  pro 
voking  grin,  and  the  young  wife  looked 
foolish. 

Suddenly  Nancy's  eyes  began  to  twinkle 
and  her  dimples  became  aggressive. 

"  Elizabeth,  I  '11  meet  your  Englishman." 

"  But  that  won't  help  me  in  the  servant 
dilemma." 

"Just  won't  it!  Elizabeth  Winston,  I 
shall  serve  that  dinner  !  " 

"  B-b-but — "  stammered  the  hostess. 

"  But  me  no  buts.  I  'm  adorable  in  a  cap 
and  apron.  It  has  been  the  regret  of  my 
life  that  I  could  n't  adopt  them  for  ordinary 
house-wear.  I  've  an  outfit  that  I  used  at 
the  cooking-class.  It  was  such  a  howling 
success  that  I  used  to  spoil  my  puddings  by 
weeping  salt  tears  into  them  because  the 
class  was  n't  coeducational." 

The  girl's  enthusiam  was  contagious. 
Her  friend  was  beginning  to  take  a  more 
cheerful  view  of  life. 

"  But,  Nancy,  do  you  know  how  ?  " 

"  Do  I  know  how,  is  it  ?     Faith,  I  'm  the 


38        THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

finest  ever.  I  'm  warranted  smooth-running, 
noiseless,  tidy,  honest — and  no  followers. 
They  all  walk  with  me." 

The  new  maid  executed  a  few  steps  and 
wound  up  with  a  respectful  curtsy. 

"  Is  it  engaged  I  am  ?  " 

"  John  can  never  keep  his  face  straight." 

"  John 's  a  dear.  He  '11  have  the  time  of 
his  life." 

"  You  '11  be  sure  to  make  blunders." 

"  My  dear  mistress,  if  your  Baronet  is  n't 
a  mummy,  he  '11  not  know  whether  I  'm  pour 
ing  champagne  or  cider  vinegar  for  him  by 
the  time  the  entree  comes  on.  He  is  going  to 
get  valuable  side-lights  on  American  domes 
tic  affairs.  He  '11  want  to  rent  the  castle 
and  come  to  New  York  to  live  after  he  sees 
the  American  domestic  on  her  native  heath. 
Ring  for  a  cab,  honey.  I  'm  going  home  to 
don  my  war  paints.  I  '11  bring  your  flowers 
for  you.  Dinner  at  seven  ?  " 

"  Seven-thirty." 

"  I  '11  be  here  to  meet  the  noble  Baronet 
and  help  him  off  with  his  galoshes.  Auf 
wiedersehen" 

She  was  off  in  a  frou-frou  of  silk  petticoats 
and  excitement,  and  Mrs.  Winston  wandered 
toward  the  kitchen,  shaking  her  head,  yet 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       39 

smiling,  the  while.  Nancy's  friends  have 
unswerving  confidence  in  her  prowess. 

At  seven  o'clock  the  new  maid  appeared, 
and  enthusiastically  hugged  her  mistress. 

"  I  '11  go  in  your  room,  ma'am,  and  put  on 
my  apron  and  cap." 

"  I  got  John  on  the  telephone,  Nancy, 
and  told  him.  I  was  afraid  he  'd  make  a 
scene  when  you  opened  the  door." 

"  What  did  he  say  ?  " 

"  Say  !  He  howled.  I  could  n't  wait  to 
hear  what  he  would  say  when  he  got  his 
breath,  so  I  rang  off." 

When  Mr.  Winston  rang  his  own  door 
bell,  at  fifteen  minutes  past  seven,  the  door 
was  opened  by  a  vision  that  made  the 
good-looking  Englishman  with  him  drop  his 
monocle,  and  then  fish  feebly  for  it  and 
readjust  it. 

Nancy  had  not  been  a  false  prophet.  She 
was  adorable.  Her  light  hair  curled  in  dis 
tracting  waves  from  under  the  most  becom 
ing  of  caps.  Her  plain  black  frock  and 
coquettish  apron  set  off  her  figure  to  per 
fection.  Her  cheeks  were  pink  with  excite 
ment.  H  er  eyes  were  even  more  mischievous 
than  usual,  which  was  a  work  of  superero 
gation.  Her  dimples  were  struggling  val- 


40       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

iantly  to  assert  themselves,  and  give  the  lie 
to  the  beautiful  demureness  of  her  lips. 

The  Baronet  stared.  Then,  involuntarily, 
he  turned,  and  looked  with  mild  speculation 
at  his  friend  Winston.  Guilty  embarrass 
ment  was  written  in  every  line  of  his  host's 
face.  A  gleam  of  pity  for  Mrs.  Winston 
dawned  in  the  Baronet's  heart,  and  he  dis 
creetly  shifted  his  glance  once  more  to  the 
maid.  After  all,  he  admitted  to  himself, 

Winston  would  be  more  than  human  if 

Nancy  took  the  Englishman's  coat  and  hat. 
He  wore  no  galoshes. 

"  I  '11  run  up  and  get  into  a  dinner-coat, 
old  man,"  said  Winston,  still  struggling  with 
confusion. 

"  Show  Sir  Henry  into  the  drawing-room, 
and  call  Mrs.  Winston,"  he  added  in  choked 
tones. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  maid  respectfully ; 
but  Sir  Henry,  looking  up  suddenly,  inter 
cepted  a  most  deliberate  and  meaning  wink, 
which  the  reprehensible  young  woman  was 
delivering  to  the  departing  Winston. 

She  blushed.  The  Baronet  looked  un 
seeing,  and  followed  her  into  the  front  room. 
As  she  turned  to  go  he  stood  between  the 
portieres,  and  looked  down  at  her  admir- 


'  The  door  was  opened  by  a  vision ' ' 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       43 

doubtedly  delightful,  but  personally  I  've  a 
deep-rooted  objection  to  the  emancipated 
modern  girl.  We  have  the  type  in  England. 
You  seem  to  have  more  specimens  of  it  here, 
though  I  '11  admit  your  girls  are  more  at 
tractive  than  ours.  I  Ve  an  old-fashioned 
taste  for  a  simple,  unworldly  type  of  girl, 
who  does  n't  flirt  with  every  man  she  meets 
and  commonize  herself  in  doing  it." 

Winston  choked  painfully  on  a  fish-bone, 
and  his  wife  unfeelingly  laughed  at  him. 

"  Try  a  bread-crust,"  advised  Sir  Henry 
with  polite  concern. 

The  dinner  went  smoothly.  The  waitress 
was  as  deft  as  she  was  pretty  and  the  guest 
had  to  take  himself  mentally  by  the  throat 
in  order  to  keep  himself  from  following  her 
every  movement  with  his  eyes.  He  was  dis 
trait,  and  his  share  of  the  conversation 
trailed  off  into  inanities  whenever  the  maid 
was  within  his  range  of  vision. 

Once  or  twice  he  pulled  himself  up  with  a 
round  turn,  conscious  that  some  one  had 
asked  him  a  question,  but  absolutely  in  the 
dark  as  to  what  the  question  was.  He 
stumbled  out  of  the  predicament  as  best  he 
could,  and  inwardly  cursed  himself  for  a 
fool ;  but  there  was  one  little  shining  lock 


44       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

that  fell  over  her  left  temple  and  fluttered 
there  as  she  moved  about.  He  wanted  to 
brush  it  back,  and  yet  knew  he  would  miss 
it  if  it  were  suppressed.  Then  those  dim 
ples.  One  of  them  was  but  a  hint  of  a 
dimple.  It  was  constantly  hovering  on  the 
verge  of  self-revealing,  yet  it  never  deep 
ened  and  showed  what  it  could  do.  If  the 
demure  lips  would  only  smile  that  dimple 
would  surely  develop  maddeningly.  If  he 
only  dared  make  her  smile.  Then  he  won 
dered  what  he  could  say  that  would  make 
her  smile.  Nothing,  under  the  circum 
stances.  Of  course  a  maid  could  not  show 
that  she  listened  to  the  conversation.  But 
if  he  were  alone  with  her,  if  she  were  n't  a 
maid,  if —  Oh,  by  Jove,  what  a  bally  ass  he 
was  making  of  himself  ! 

Just  as  he  reached  this  unflattering  con 
clusion  she  lifted  her  long  lashes  and  gave 
him  one  direct  look — half-mocking,  half-seri 
ous,  wholly  disconcerting.  He  felt  himself 
flush  to  the  roots  of  his  hair.  He  had  an 
awful  conviction  that  he  was  looking  like  a 
fatuous  fool.  He  set  his  wine-glass  down 
hastily. 

The  maid  came  to  his  side  to  fill  it.  He 
noticed  how  white  and  beautiful  her  hands 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       45 

were,  and  how  exquisitely  her  wrists  were 
moulded.  She  used  violet  perfume — a  very 
delicate,  subtle  violet. 

"  Don't  you  think  so,  Sir  Henry?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Winston's  voice  from  some  far-away 
world. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  declared  the  Baronet 
earnestly. 

"  Still  it 's  odd  for  an  Englishman  to  feel 
that  way  about  it." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  stammered  the 
Baronet.  He  does  n't  yet  know  to  what 
heresy  against  race  and  class  he  had  com 
mitted  himself. 

Fortunately  Mrs.  Winston  loved  nothing 
better  than  the  sound  of  her  own  voice,  and 
the  guest  hoped  that  his  own  preoccupation 
would  pass  unnoticed.  Winston,  to  be  sure, 
did  n't  say  much,  but  he  laughed  a  great 
deal.  Sir  Henry  felt  that  it  would  be  easy 
for  him  to  dislike  his  host.  Winston  had 
seemed  a  very  good  fellow  in  London,  and 
he  had  been  very  decent  about  his  New 
York  clubs  and  all  that ;  but  he  appeared 
rather  foolish  at  his  own  table.  A  fellow 
need  n't  grin  like  a  Cheshire  cat  in  order  to 
seem  amiable. 

Then,  too,  a  married  man  really  ought  to 


46       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

pull  up  a  bit.  He  certainly  owed  something 
to  his  wife.  He  had  no  right  to  carry  on 
an  affair  with  a  maid  in  his  own  home.  It 
was  not  only  immoral ;  it  was  deuced  bad 
taste. 

The  Baronet  worked  himself  into  a  fine 
glow  of  virtuous  indignation  and  looked 
sternly  at  Winston.  Then  he  tried  to  look 
sternly  at  the  disreputable  young  person, 
but  the  effort  was  a  lamentable  failure. 
She  happened  to  be  looking  at  him,  and 
their  eyes  met. 

After  all,  a  young  and  pretty  girl  might 
be  foolish  and  easily  flattered  without  mean 
ing  any  harm.  She  was  such  a  child.  Un 
questionably  it  was  all  Winston's  fault. 
Winston  was  a  cad.  Some  one  ought  to 
warn  her. 

He  glared  at  the  genial  host,  who  was 
cheerfully  consuming  his  salad,  and,  though 
a  gay  Lothario,  did  not  look  the  part. 

"  You  Ve  a  brother  somewhere  over  here, 
have  n't  you  ?  "  asked  Winston. 

"Half-brother,  in  Canada,"  said  Sir 
Henry. 

"You '11  see  him?" 

"  Oh,  yes." 

He  had  n't  intended  to  visit  Jack,  but  he 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       47 

would  —  yes,  certainly  he  would.  Of  course 
Jack  was  the  black  sheep ;  but  then,  after 
all,  what  had  he  done  ?  A  mesalliance  — 
game-keeper's  daughter.  Jack  ought  to 
have  known  better,  but  the  governor  had 
cut  up  pretty  rough.  There  was  no  use 
turning  the  boy  out  without  a  shilling.  Prob 
ably  the  girl  was  pretty.  Sir  Henry  had 
never  thought  much  about  it.  He  had  been 
in  Cambridge  at  the  time,  and  he  had  never 
known  Jack  well.  But  now  he  had  the  run 
ning  of  things,  he  must  look  Jack  up  and  do 
something  for  him.  A  man  had  a  right  to 
marry  the  woman  he  loved  —  but  he  ought 
to  consider  the  family.  Yes,  a  man  must 
consider  the  family.  Oh,  Lord !  what  was 
he  going  into  all  that  for  ? 

"  You  are  going  West,  after  big  game, 
when  you  leave  here  ? "  Mrs.  Winston  was 
asking. 

"  Yes,  I  leave  to-morrow." 

"Why,  I  thought  — "  began  Winston, 
surprised. 

"  I  've.  had  letters,"  insisted  the  Baronet 
firmly.  "  I  'm  obliged  to  go  to-morrow." 

"Too  bad,  old  man.  You  Ve  not  done 
New  York  yet.  You  have  n't  met  Nancy. 
Still,  hunting  may  be  better  than  being 


48       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

hunted.  On  the  whole,  perhaps  you  've 
chosen  the  better  part.  The  Indians  don't 
go  in  for  scalps  now.  You  '11  be  safer  among 
them." 

"John,"  said  Mrs.  Winston  sternly.  Win 
ston  certainly  did  seem  to  be  rather  an  ass, 
thought  the  guest.  Perhaps  he  ought  not 
to  drink  at  all. 

The  table  was  cleared.  The  coffee  came 
on.  Sir  Henry  took  his  cigar  and  looked 
questioningly  at  his  hostess. 

"You  '11  not  let  us  drive  you  away?" 

"  Oh,  no,  I  'm  used  to  smoke.  John 
smokes  like  a  furnace.  Now,  if  Nancy  were 
only  here  to  help  me  chatter.  We  do  need 
a  pretty  girl  in  that  vacant  chair." 

"  How  would  I  do,  ma'am  ?  "  asked  a  sweet, 
velvety  voice. 

Mrs.  Winston  gasped  and  was  speechless. 

"  That 's  the  very  thing,  Mary.  You  '11 
fill  the  bill.  Sit  down,"  said  Winston 
heartily. 

The  maid  slipped  into  the  chair  opposite 
the  Baronet,  and  smiled  at  him  across  the 
roses. 

His  monocle  fell  into  his  coffee  with  a 
splash,  and  he  made  a  fruitless  effort  to  pull 
himself  together. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        49 

"  This  is  a  democratic  country,  you  know, 
old  man,"  said  Winston  jovially.  "  We 
don't  go  in  for  class  distinctions  as  you  do 
in  England  —  and  she  is  a  pretty  girl.  I  'm 
not  afraid  to  call  any  unprejudiced  man  to 
witness  on  that  point." 

Mrs.  Winston  had  caught  her  breath. 

"  John,"  she  said,  in  strangled  tones,  "  I  'm 
ashamed  of  you  —  and  of  Nancy,  too.  Sir 
Henry  will  think  us  unpardonably  rude.  I 
should  never  have  allowed  it ;  but  when 
Nancy  sets  her  head  upon  a  thing " 

The  Englishman  was  still  staring  help 
lessly  across  the  roses. 

The  bewitching  face  beyond  them  beamed 
upon  him.  The  fugitive  dimple  had  come 
out  boldly  into  the  open,  and  the  lips  were 
smiling  deliciously. 

"  He  does  n't  look  unforgiving,"  said  the 
smiling  lips.  "  Don't  bother,  Elizabeth,  I  '11 
explain." 

She  did. 

Two  hours  later  Sir  Henry  stood  once 
more  between  the  drawing-room  portieres, 
smiling  down  at  a  piquant  face  under  a  dainty 
cap. 

"  You  have  n't  told  me  that  I  might  come 
to  see  you,"  he  said  reproachfully. 


50       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  But  you  leave  to-morrow." 

"I  Ve  changed  my  mind,"  said  the  Baro 
net. 

"  He  's  a  ripping  good  sort,"  John  Win 
ston  explained  to  his  wife  a  week  or  two 
later.  "  But  he  positively  embarrasses  me. 
He  can't  do  enough  for  me.  You  'd  think 
he  felt  that  he  owed  me  an  apology  for 
something  or  other." 

"  We  introduced  him  to  Nancy,"  said 
Mrs.  Winston. 


"  '  I  've  changed  my  mind,'  said  the  Baronet. 


VICARIOUS  FLIRTATION 


Ill 

VICARIOUS  FLIRTATION 

NANCY  once  played  fairy  godmother,  but 
she  is  n't  saying  anything  about  it  in 
the  bosom  of  her  family  for  fear  of  making 
herself  unpopular.  Cinderella  was  the  sixth 
number  of  a  continuous  performance  pre 
sented  by  an  all-star  cast  of  Irish  cooks.  The 
first  performer  stole  the  silver.  The  second 
drank  the  brandy  provided  for  the  mince 
meat  and  retired  in  fine  disorder.  The 
third  threw  Madrons  at  the  washerwoman. 
The  fourth  broke  sixteen  pieces  of  valuable 
china  in  one  week.  The  fifth  took  such  an 
interest  in  the  table  talk  that  it  was  fairly 
stimulating,  and  genially  joined  in  the  con 
versation  ;  but  she  left  in  high  dudgeon 
when  told  that  followers  must  be  out  of  the 
house  before  twelve  o'clock.  Then  came 
Cinderella,  disguised  as  Norah  O'Toole. 

To  say  that  Norah  was  charming  would 
be  speaking  well  within  bounds.  Two  years 
ago  she  was  the  prettiest  colleen  in  County 
Kildare,  and  the  two  years  had  changed  her 

53 


54       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

abode  but  not  her  face.  Nancy's  mother 
looked  at  the  new  maid  askance  and  prophe 
sied  that  she  was  too  pretty  to  be  true. 
Nancy's  father,  being  a  man  of  discretion, 
said  nothing  about  Norah's  looks.  Nancy's 
brother  openly  proclaimed  the  girl  a  peach, 
and,  moved  by  an  unselfish  desire  to  make 
others  happy,  brought  susceptible  college 
chums  home  to  dinner  with  him  every  night. 
As  for  Nancy  herself,  she  was  torn  between 
hopeless  envy  and  grudging  admiration  ev 
ery  time  she  looked  at  the  dark-lashed  gray 
eyes  and  the  radiant  complexion  of  the  belle 
of  Kildare. 

After  Norah  had  been  in  the  household  a 
week  the  nerves  of  the  family  smoothed 
themselves  out,  like  a  long-cramped  scroll, 
and  the  angel  of  peace  brooded  over  the  flat. 
The  new  maid  could  cook.  She  was  cleanly 
almost  to  the  point  of  godliness.  She 
handled  china  as  if  she  had  been  born  with 
a  Sevres  platter  in  one  hand  and  a  Cauldon 
salad-bowl  in  the  other.  She  was  so  distract 
ing  in  her  waitress's  apron  and  cap  that 
paterfamilias  forgot  his  skill  in  carving  and 
made  havoc  of  the  napery.  She  had  a  voice 
like  a  bird's,  a  delicious  brogue,  more  marked 
at  emotional  times  than  at  others,  and  the 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       55 

disposition  of  a  cherub.  Conversation  in 
the  home  circle  ran  in  only  one  groove — 
praise  of  Norah. 

This  state  of  things  was  too  bright,  too 
beautiful  to  last.  The  family  were  fast 
lapsing  from  orthodox  grace.  Heaven 
lost  its  charms  for  them.  With  Norah 
in  the  flesh  it  was  not  necessary  for  them 
to  have  "  a  bliss  to  die  with,  dim  descried." 
Probably  it  was  to  save  their  immortal 
souls  that  they  were  robbed  of  earthly  bliss, 
but  Nancy  was  unwittingly  the  angel  of 
destruction. 

It  all  came  about,  as  so  many  things  have 
come  about,  through  a  woman's  tears.  One 
Sunday  evening,  Nancy  was  on  her  way  to 
her  own  room  after  making  an  evening  al 
ternately  Elysian  and  Tartarean  for  a  love 
lorn  young  man.  It  is  hard  to  forgive  a  man 
for  coming  when  one  expects  another  man 
who  does  not  come.  A  week  before  Nancy 
had  made  the  man  who  came  often,  seriously 
angry.  Since  then  he  had  not  come  at  all. 
As  she  passed  Norah's  door  she  saw  some 
thing  that  made  her  stop  suddenly.  Norah 
the  gay,  Norah  the  debonair,  was  sitting 
limply  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  and  forlornly 
mopping  a  tear-stained  face  with  a  wet  wad 


56       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

of  kerchief.  The  faster  she  mopped,  the 
faster  poured  the  flood. 

Nancy  is  a  democratic  young  woman,  and 
she  objects  to  seeing  any  girl  cry,  if  the  flood 
gates  can  be  closed ;  so  she  tapped  at  the 
door  and  stepped  into  the  bandbox  room. 
Norah  gave  one  gigantic  sob,  strangled 
amidships,  and  sprang  to  attention.  Nancy 
pushed  her  back  upon  the  bed. 

"  Now,  just  tell  me  all  about  it,"  she  said 
in  a  tone  that  would  have  wrung  confidences 
from  an  oyster. 

Norah  blushed,  and  supplemented  the 
kerchief  with  her  apron,  as  she  said  : 
"  Shure  I  'm  that  ashamed  of  mesilf,  Miss. 
It  's  nothin'  at  all,  at  all.  I  'm  that  foolish, 
sometimes,  that  I  need  a  good  beatin',  I  do 
that." 

"  But  what 's  the  matter  ?  "  insisted  Nancy. 

"  Well,  ye  see,  Miss,  it 's  the  ball  Tuesday 
night.  The  girls  was  here  to-night  a-beggin' 
me  to  go,  and  I  can't.  I  would  n't  be  carin' 
so  much,  only  it 's  a  County  Kildare  ball,  and 
all  the  girls  and  the  lads  will  be  from  County 
Kildare.  They  're  comin'  from  all  around 
the  country  here,  and  there 's  them  as  I 
have  n't  seen  since  I  came  over.  But  there  ! 
shure  I  must  n't  be  throublin'  you  wid  me 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       57 

silliness.  It 's  a  bit  of  the  homesickness  I  'm 
feelin'  the  night." 

"  Why  can't  you  go  to  the  ball  ?  "  asked  the 
interrogative  young  person,  perched  on  the 
trunk.  "  Have  n't  you  anybody  to  take 
you?" 

Norah  laughed  outright  in  scorn. 

"  Ah  there,  wud  ye  think  I  'd  be  needin'  a 
lad,  Miss  ?  Faith,  they  'd  be  reaching  to  the 
next  street,  if  I  'd  stand  them  up  in  a  row. 
Lad  !  is  it  ?  When  I  'm  needin'  a  lad,  it 's  not 
cryin'  I  '11  be.  I  '11  be  dead  entirely.  If  the 
clothes  was  only  as  aisy  to  get  as  the  lads, 
I  'd  be  wearin'  velvet.  But  it 's  the  dresses 
that  cost  more,  and  wear  worse — bad  luck 
to  them  ! " 

"  You  have  n't  any  frock  for  the  ball  ?  " 

"  That 's  it,  Miss,  but  if  I  had  a  ha'porth 
o'  sense,  I  would  n't  be  cryin'  over  it.  You 
see,  all  the  girls  are  havin'  new  dresses,  and 
I  was  out  of  work  and  in  the  hospital  all 
summer,  so  I  have  n't  the  money.  Not  a 
new  rag  have  I  had,  except  my  workin' 
clothes,  since  I  came  over.  Ye  should  see 
Katy's  pink  silk,  Miss  ;  and  Mary's  got  a  red 
cashmere  that  luks  for  all  the  world  like  a 
tinnimint-house  fire,  and  neither  of  them  be- 
comin'  to  the  dresses.  Shure  if  I  had  that 


58 

pink  silk  I  'd  be  leavin'  all  of  County  Kildare 
dead  on  the  field  the  mornin'.  The  police 
men  would  be  ringin'  for  ambulances  to 
carry  the  lads  off  in,  if  the  policemen  was  n't 
laid  out  thimsilves — pink 's  that  becomin'  to 
me,  Miss." 

Norah  had  warmed  at  thought  of  the  fray, 
but  slumped  into  deadly  gloom  once  more. 
Nancy  kicked  her  heels  against  the  trunk 
and  eyed  the  mourner  critically. 

"Norah,"  she  said,  finally,  "you  are  just 
about  my  size.  With  a  little  pulling  in,  you 
could  wear  my  clothes.  You  shall  have  a 
pink  frock  for  that  ball." 

Norah  came  to  her  feet,  as  if  an  electric 
battery  had  been  applied  to  her. 

"  Ye  are  n't  meanin',  Miss " 

"  You  shall  wear  my  new  pink  frock,"  said 
Nancy  firmly. 

The  Irish  Niobe  sank  back  in  consterna 
tion,  but  there  was  a  dawning  hope  in  her  eyes. 

"  Not  the  one  with  the  apple-blossom 
wreath  on  it,  Miss  ?  " 

"  That  same." 

"  Oh,  I  cud  n't  be  thinkin'  of  it.  It 's  that 
good  of  you  to  offer,  but  I  'd  never  dare.  If 
ye  had  some  old  dress,  now,  that  you  'd  never 
be  wearin'  again,  but " 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       59 

"  You  '11  be  a  dream  in  that  pink  frock, 
Norah,  and  you  '11  knock  County  Kildare 
into  a  cocked  hat.  No,  you  need  n't  be  say 
ing  you  won't :  I  've  got  my  heart  set  on  it 
now.  You  are  going  to  have  the  time  of 
your  life  Tuesday  night,  Norah.  I  '11  order 
a  pumpkin  at  the  corner  grocery,  and  County 
Kildare  ought  to  be  able  to  furnish  a  Prince 
descended  from  Brian  Boru.  Now  go  to 
sleep  and  dream  you  are  a  comet  with  a  tail 
of  Kildare  lads.  Tuesday  night  you  '11  come 
into  my  room  and  I  '11  dress  you.  We  '11  not 
tell  any  one.  You  can  cover  yourself  up 
with  a  mackintosh  so  that  no  one  here  will 
see  the  frock,  and  then  you  '11  go  off  and 
utterly  snuff  out  that  tenement-house  fire 
and  the  pink  silk.  Good-night." 

Norah  held  the  door  open  and  beamed 
adoration. 

"Ye  see,  Miss,"  she  said,  becoming  sud 
denly  interested  in  the  pattern  of  the  carpet, 
"  Terence  will  be  there." 

Nancy  stopped.  "  Who 's  Terence  ?  Is 
he  the  Prince  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Well,  Miss,  no.  He  is  n't  a  prince,  but 
he 's  a  very  nice  lad.  We  was  keepin'  com 
pany  in  Brooklyn,  but  he  saw  Jerry  Donahue 
a-kissin'  me, — shure,  it  was  quite  by  accident, 


60       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

Miss, —  but  Terence,  he  's  that  unreasonable, 
and  he  would  have  no  excuse  at  all.  So  he 
gave  Jerry  two  black  eyes  for  a  treat,  and 
he  went  off  to  take  a  job  in  the  Capitol  at 
Albany,  an*  niver  sayin'  a  word  to  me  at  all. 
If  he  thought  I  'd  be  after  callin'  him  back, 
it's  little  he  knows  of  the  ways  of  Kildare 
girls.  There  's  plenty  of  lads  with  good  tem 
pers.  But  I  'm  not  denyin',  Miss,  he  was 
that  handsome  an'  I  'm  wishin'  I  'd  been  more 
careful  there  was  n't  anybody  lookin'  when 
Jerry  kissed  me.  And  now,  Katy  's  tellin' 
me,  the  evenin',  that  Terence  is  back  in 
New  York  and  is  doin'  fine,  but  is  that  stiff 
and  bad-tempered.  He  's  to  take  Lizzie 
Sullivan  to  the  ball.  She  's  that  set  up  about 
him  and  she  's  havin'  a  blue  organdy  dress 
made." 

"  Norah,"  said  Nancy  with  emphasis,  "  you 
shall  have  my  pink  fan  and  my  rhinestone 
combs.  My  money  is  on  you.  Sure  Jerry 
Donahue  is  a  man  of  sense.  Small  credit  to 
the  man  who  would  n't  kiss  you  —  and  I  wish 
I  were  going  to  have  as  much  fun  Tuesday 
night  as  you  are.  That 's  all." 

"  The  darlin'  that  ye  are  ! "  laughed  Norah 
happily. 

On    Tuesday    night    dinner    was    early. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       61 

Nancy  had  mentioned  that  Norah  wanted 
to  go  out  somewhere.  After  the  dishes  were 
washed,  one  radiant,  beaming  Irish  girl  put 
herself  into  the  hands  of  an  American  girl 
who  had  herself  prepared  for  critical  cam 
paigns,  and  knew  the  importance  of  every 
hair-twist  and  bodice-fold.  Nancy  cast  an 
occasional  guilty  look  toward  the  door,  as 
she  laced  the  plump  figure  into  the  swell 
pink  frock.  She  had  a  definite  conviction  that 
her  mother's  altruism  would  n't  extend  to 
pink  cr£pe  ;  and  then  her  mother  was  too  old 
to  realize  the  vital  importance  of  an  occa 
sion  like  this. 

Norah  twinkled  at  herself  in  the  mirror 
with  wondering  and  dimpling  delight,  and 
Nancy  grew  explosively  enthusiastic  as  the 
toilet  progressed.  The  waving  auburn  hair 
was  drawn  up  in  soft  masses  to  the  top  of 
the  dainty  head  and  held  in  place  by  spark 
ling  combs.  The  decollete  sleeveless  bodice 
showed  a  plump  white  neck  full  of  delicious 
curves,  and  rounded  arms  that  should  never 
have  been  hidden  under  gloves.  The  girl's 
cheeks  needed  no  rouge,  but  Nancy  pow 
dered  the  bewitching,  upturned  face,  and  then 
stood  back  and  looked  at  the  transformed 
Cinderella. 


62       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  Heaven  help  the  lads  of  County  Kil« 
dare,  this  night ! "  she  said  gayly.  "I  '11 
never  have  the  heart  to  wear  that  gown 
again,  after  seeing  you  in  it.  Lizzie  Sulli 
van's  guardian  angel  is  now  trailing  his  wings 
in  the  dust  and  shedding  bitter,  impotent 
tears.  Run  along,  little  girl,  and  make  Ter 
ence  as  miserable  as  the  law  allows." 

Norah  drew  the  mackintosh  over  her 
finery  and  stood  for  a  moment  before  the 
door,  looking  at  the  fairy  godmother. 

"  There  's  no  other  so  good  as  you,  Miss." 
There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she  spoke. 

The  young  mistress  put  a  hand  on  each 
shoulder  of  the  girl,  and  kissed  her  lightly 
on  the  cheek. 

"We  're  all  young  just  once,  my  dear. 
We  must  dance  and  flirt  while  we  can,  and 
— I  've  a  Terence  myself.  Run  along. 
Good-night." 

Nancy's  relatives  have  always  said  she 
had  no  proper  sense  of  dignity. 

The  ball  was  a  tremendous  success. 
County  Kildare  turned  out  in  force,  and  the 
hall  was  fairly  filled  when  Norah  arrived 
upon  the  scene  of  action.  The  mackintosh 
was  shed  in  the  dressing-room,  and  the 
modish  pink  gown,  feeling  itself  sadly  out  of 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       63 

place,  was  trailed  across  the  room  with  as 
good  a  grace  as  though  its  owner  were  man 
aging  its  folds.  A  subdued  murmur  fol 
lowed  it.  Norah's  cheeks  grew  redder  and 
her  eyes  brighter. 

"  It 's  a  queen  ye  are  the  night,"  whispered 
Barney  Magrue,  in  her  ear.  "Ye  '11  be 
afther  givin'  me  all  the  waltzes  ?  " 

"Will  I  that,  Barney  Magrue?  —  an' 
eighteen  waltzes  on  the  card  !  Take  shame 
to  yersilf !  Ye  '11  take  me  to  Mrs.  Rafferty 
that  's  resavin'  with  the  committee  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs.  Afther  that,  we  '11  talk 
of  the  dancin'.  Oh,  boys,  go  along  with 
you.  Ye  'd  be  takin'  all  my  dances  four 
times  over.  I  '11  be  lookin'  the  prospect 
over  first.  One  dance  is  enough  for  each 
one  of  you.  No,  Patrick,  I  '11  not  be  savin' 
any  six  two-steps  for  you.  Misther  Diggins, 
I  'm  glad  to  know  you,  but  I  'm  not  fillin' 
my  card  now.  Barney,  it  's  a  blatherer  ye 
are.  Ye  like  my  dress,  is  it  ?  It  is  n't  so 
much,  but  I  'm  glad  ye  like  it.  Will  I  give 
ye  one  of  the  blossoms  to  wear  ?  That  I 
will  not.  Mrs.  Rafferty,  ye  're  the  youngest 
Kildare  girl  of  them  all.  Shure,  if  there 
was  many  girls  back  there  like  you  there  'd 
be  no  Kildare  lads  comin'  to  America.  Oh, 


64       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

do  ye  think  so  ?  It  's  a  pretty  little  dress  I 
do  think,  but  I  were  n't  thinkin'  it  was  so  be- 
comin'." 

Mrs.  Rafferty  stared  in  opened-mouthed 
wonder. 

"  It 's  a  picture  out  of  a  fashion  book  ye 
are,  Norah,  only  ye  're  better-lukin',"  Mrs. 
Rafferty  said.  "  Mike,  will  ye  come  here 
and  luk  at  Norah  OToole?  Did  ye  iver 
know  Kildare  to  turn  out  a  foiner  girl,  an' 
it  the  greatest  county  in  Oirland  for  hand 
some  girls  ?  Well,  an'  there  comes  Terence 
McManus  wid  Lizzie  Sullivan.  They  do 
say  he  's  the  great  catch  now.  Norah, 
darlin',  wud  ye  luk  at  Lizzie  a-hangin'  to 
him — an'  him  wid  a  Broadway  saloon  av  his 
own  an'  Senators  an'  Governors  a-clappin' 
him  on  the  back." 

Norah  stood  at  the  top  of  the  stairs 
against  a  background  of  black  coats  and 
trousers.  Terence,  looking  up,  saw  a  vision 
in  shimmering  pink,  and  a  face  that  set  his 
heart  thumping.  His  own  face  flushed  and 
he  forgot  the  girl  hanging  on  his  arm,  for 
got  fat  Mrs.  Rafferty  and  the  Reception 
Committee  waiting  to  make  much  of  him  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs.  He  saw  only  the 
face  rising  above  the  gleaming  pink  gown 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       65 

and  the  blossom-wreaths.  He  sprang  up 
the  steps,  still  staring  hungrily  at  the  laugh 
ing  face,  and  as  he  reached  her  the  girl 
nodded  carelessly  and  said  : 

"  How  do  ye  do,  Mr.  McManus  ?  Was  it 
all  the  waltzes  ye  were  wantin',  Barney  ?  " 

She  gave  Barney  a  tender  glance  that 
staggered  him  and  turned  with  him  to  the 
crowd  of  eager  lads,  begging  for  her  dances 
and  her  smiles.  Nancy's  gown  fairly 
wriggled  with  delight.  Its  owner  could  not 
have  done  it  more  credit. 

It  was  in  the  Lancers  that  Norah  and  Ter 
ence  met  again  and  touched  hands.  His 
face  was  white  and  angry.  She  was  serenely 
smiling. 

"  And  did  ye  like  Albany,  Mr.  McManus  ?  " 

"  I  did,  Miss  OToole." 

"  Why  did  ye  lave  it  ?  Do  ye  always  lave 
the  things  ye  like  ?  " 

"  Sometimes  I  have  to  do  that  same." 

"Was  it  debts,  Mr.  McManus?"  Her 
dimples  were  all  showing  now.  He  scowled. 

"  Ye  know  well  why  I  came  back  to  New 
York." 

"  I  'm  hearin'  ye  have  a  splendid  place  and 
great  friends.  I  wish  ye  luck." 

"  I  've  no  luck." 


66       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  Arrah,  then  !  listen  to  the  ingratitude  of 
him,  an'  him  with  a  Broadway  saloon  of  his 
own  ! " 

"Where  is  Jerry  Donahue?" 
"And  how  should  I  know,  then?" 
"  Are  n't  ye  keepin'  company  with  him  ?" 
"  It 's  four  months  ago  I  saw  him  last." 
"  Norah,  darlin',  I  heard  ye  were  to  marry 
him." 

"  It  's  more  than  he  heard,  poor  lad." 
He  was  forgetting  the  figures  of  the  dance, 
and  the  boys  and  girls  were  smiling. 

"  Ye  were  n't  in  love  with  him,  darlin'  ?  " 
"  It 's  likely  it  was  Barney  ye  were  hearin' 
about,  Mr.  McManus." 

She  whirled  away,  and  he  set  his  teeth 
viciously. 

"  I  '11  throuble  ye  no  more,"  he  muttered, 
as  they  passed  in  the  chain. 

"  More  power  to  ye,"  she  laughed,  looking 
up  into  Barney's  eyes,  and  catching  up  the 
train  of  the  demoralizing  pink  gown. 

Terence  did  no  more  dancing.  He  stood 
around  in  corners  and  glared  at  the  crowd. 
Even  his  diamond  shirt-stud  shot  out  vin 
dictive  rays  when  Barney  Magrue  danced  by, 
and  he  resolutely  turned  his  eyes  away  from 
every  glimmer  of  pink.  The  old  friends  who 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       67 

stopped  to  talk  to  him  went  away  hot  under 
the  collar. 

"  Shure,  Terence  McManus  is  that  shtuck 
up  since  he  's  been  associatin'  wid  the  legis- 
latoors  that  he  has  n't  a  civil  word  to  throw 
to  a  dog,"  said  the  genial  Mrs.  Rafferty, 
indignantly,  after  an  encounter  with  the 
sulky  lion. 

The  dance  before  the  last  was  "lady's 
choice."  Terence  stood  by  an  open  window, 
trying  to  cool  his  temper,  and  staring  out 
into  the  night.  A  hand  touched  his  arm. 

"  Mr.  McManus,  will  ye  dance  the  waltz 
with  me  ? " 

The  voice  made  his  blood  leap,  but  his 
scowl  deepened. 

"  Is  it  a  fool  ye  think  I  am  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  do  that,"  said  the  laughing  voice  with 
a  queer,  tearful  little  note  in  it,  "  and  it 's 
another  that  's  talkin'  to  ye.  Terence,  lad, 
ye  would  n't  be  unkind  enough  to  say  no,  an' 
me  pickin'  ye  out  from  all  the  lads,  an'  you 
so  hard  to  me,  all  the  months  ?  " 

She  was  looking  into  his  eyes  now,  but 
it  was  n't  the  look  she  had  given  Barney  and 
the  others.  The  apple  blossoms  on  Nancy's 
gown  clung  to  the  white,  babyish  shoulders 
and  drooped  over  the  rounded  arms.  She 


68       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

was  the  old  Norah,  with  a  new  and  subtle 
charm  which  the  stupid  masculine  brain 
could  feel  but  never  analyze. 

"  Ah,  Terence  !  " 

"  But  ye  did  kiss  Jerry." 

"  An'  him  bein'  sent  away  for  good,  on 
your  account,  an'  feelin'  that  unhappy  it 
made  me  cry  to  think  I  cud  n't  be  two  girls 
an'  marry  ye  both.  Ah,  Terence,  ye  cud  n't 
be  carin'  about  that  now,  an'  I  lovin'  ye 
even  when  ye  acted  so  hard  an'  wud  n't  give 
me  a  chance  to  tell  ye  ! " 

He  was  visibly  thawing. 

"  Ye  did  n't  write." 

"  Wud  ye  love  a  girl  that  wud  chase  ye  to 
Albany?" 

"  Then  why  did  ye  tell  me  now  ?  " 

"  Because  I  cud  see  ye,  an'  'twas  in  your 
eyes  that  ye  wud  like  to  hear  it,  Terence 
— darlin'." 

He  melted,  but  he  made  one  stand  before 
he  gave  in  utterly. 

"  Ye  '11  marry  me  this  day  a  month, 
Norah  ? " 

She  nodded.  His  arm  went  around  her 
waist,  crushing  the  pink  chiffon  sash  beyond 
redemption,  and  they  joined  the  waltz. 
Something  more  than  the  pink  gown  made 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       69 

her  radiant,  and  his  diamond  stud  paled  be 
side  the  light  in  his  eyes. 

Nancy's  mother  looked  for  a  new  cook,  and 
Nancy  realized  the  cost  of  altruism,  but  she 
has  never  regretted  sacrificing  the  pink 
frock  and  the  family  cook.  The  man  who 
came  often  was  less  stout-hearted  than 
Terence, — he  surrendered  unconditionally. 


A  GOOD  LIE  GONE  WRONG 


7« 


there  is  a  man  who  does  n't  be- 
lieve  a  word  I  say,"  remarked  Nancy 
calmly,  as  the  lawyer  walked  away. 

The  man  who  came  often  looked  injured. 

"Where  did  you  know  him  so  well?"  he 
asked  with  the  acid  accent  that  rejoices  the 
heart  of  a  woman. 

"  Your  inference  is  n't  flattering,  Bobby, 
but  your  jealousy  is ;  so  I  '11  forgive  you.  I 
find  it  easy  to  forgive  a  nice  man  anything 
save  a  lack  of  interest  in  me.  It  really 
makes  very  little  difference  to  me  whether 
he  is  interested  in  my  faults  or  my  virtues, 
so  long  as  the  interest  is  there.  So  you 
don't  believe  me  either  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  say  that." 

"  But  you  know  me  so  well,  and  it  is  a 
poor  syllogism  that  will  not  work  backwards. 
Do  be  logical,  Bobby.  It  's  the  proud  pre 
rogative  of  your  sex,  and  you  really  must 
cling  to  a  few  rights,  in  spite  of  the  new 

73 


74       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

woman.  Now  I  do  not  pretend  to  logic, 
but  I  take  off  my  hat  to  it  when  I  meet  it  in 
a  man.  There  have  been  moments  when 
I  Ve  suspected  myself  of  a  leaning  towards 
logic  ;  but  I  Ve  always  taken  strenuous  pre 
cautionary  measures  whenever  I  saw  the 
symptoms.  I  wear  a  rabbit's  foot  and  a 
white  elephant  to  ward  off  the  calamity. 
Heaven  deliver  me  from  a  logical  woman. 
I  would  rather  wear  bloomers  than  logic. 
I  'd  consider  it  less  of  an  infringement  upon 
masculine  privileges." 

"  But  where  did  you  know  him  so  well  ?  " 
persisted  the  man  who  came  often. 

"  Now,  curiosity  is  distinctively  a  feminine 
vice,"  continued  Nancy,  reflectively.  "  From 
Adam  down,  men  have  been  devoid  of  it. 
That 's  why  they  have  so  much  room  for 
logic  in  their  make-up. 

"  When  you  look  as  vicious  as  that, 
Bobby,  I  feel  that  I  could  almost  love  you. 
I  Ve  hoped,  at  times,  that  you  would  shake 
me  violently  when  I  did  n't  behave  well. 
Your  amiability  is  the  one  lamentable  thing 
about  you.  When  I  was  younger  than  I 
am  now,  I  read  that  somewhere  down  in 
Africa  there  is  a  tribe  in  which  the  regular 
method  of  courtship  is  for  the  love-smitten 


But  where  did  you  know  him  so  well  ? '   persisted  the  man 
who  came  often  " 


75 

man  to  hit  his  adored  one  on  the  head  with 
a  club.  If  she  lives  and  regains  her  senses, 
she  feels  firmly  convinced  that  he  loves  her. 
That  book  gave  me  a  mighty  leaning  toward 
the  field  of  foreign  missions,  but  I  dare  say 
it 's  all  spoiled  down  in  Africa  now.  Proba 
bly  effete  modern  notions  have  crept  in  with 
the  explorers  and  missionaries  ;  and  the  man 
has  put  away  his  stuffed  club  and  sends 
his  lady  violets  and  chocolates.  This  is 
treachery  to  my  sex,  Bobby,  but  mark  my 
words :  if  you  want  a  woman  to  adore  you, 
beat  her  !  Don't  nag  at  her ;  that 's  mad 
dening.  And  don't  be  patient  with  her ; 
that 's  fatal." 

"  But  why  does  n't  he  believe  you  ?" 

"  My  dear  young  friend,  in  your  last  in 
carnation  you  were  either  a  bull-dog  or  a 
leech.  Your  stick-to-it-ive  powers  are  more 
than  human.  He  does  n't  believe  me  be 
cause —  Bobby,  this  is  a  very  sad  tale — 
a  most  mortifying  tale.  I  don't  figure 
nobly  in  it.  Are  you  sure  your  affection 
for  me  will  stand  the  strain  ?  " 

"It  has  had  the  tests  that  make  me  feel 
measurably  certain  of  it,"  said  the  man  who 
came  often. 

"Well,  once  upon  a  time,   I  visited  my 


76       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

aunt  in  a  small  Massachusetts  town.  Some 
way  or  other  the  fact  that  the  scene  is  laid 
in  Massachusetts  makes  my  bad  behavior 
seem  worse  than  it  would  in  a  New  York 
setting.  In  Kentucky  or  California  I  'm 
positive  anything  short  of  breaking  all  the 
commandments  wouldn't  give  my  conscience 
a  flutter.  But  my  aunt  did  live  in  Massa 
chusetts.  So  did  the  judge.  He  was  the 
youngest  judge  in  the  State.  The  other 
lawyers  said  he  did  n't  know  any  law,  but 
that  he  could  make  a  hitching-post  vote  for 
him  if  he  turned  his  eloquence  loose  on  it. 
That 's  much  better  than  knowing  law, 
Bobby. 

"  When  I  went  there  to  visit,  the  hitching- 
posts  had  all  been  won  over,  and  the  golden- 
tongued  orator  did  n't  have  anything  to 
practise  upon.  No,  Bobby,  this  is  n't  a 
disguised  advertisement  of  Bryan  and  free 
silver.  I  hate  ghost  stories.  This  is  a  sim 
ple  tale  of  love  and  war. 

"  Well,  as  I  said,  material  was  needed. 
Somebody  has  remarked  that  genius  implies 
two  individualities,  a  brain  to  conceive,  and 
a  brain  to  receive.  I  was  willing  to  be 
offered  up  on  the  altar  of  genius.  I  've 
always  said  that  I  would  rather  be  a  part  of 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        77 

a  man's  great  success  than  have  a  pale 
anaemic  little  success  of  my  own.  I  have 
contributed  to  a  great  many  successes, 
Bobby.  That  's  a  comfort  to  me  in  my 
darkest  hours. 

"  So  I  saw  the  judge,  very  often.  He  is 
the  most  entertaining  man  I  have  ever 
known.  I  entirely  understand  the  hitching- 
post's  point  of  view.  I  would  have  voted 
for  him  for  any  State  or  municipal  office. 
There  were  times  when  I  felt  that  I  could 
give  him  my  vote  even  if  he  were  proposed, 
or  did  propose  for  a  private  and  domestic 
holding. 

"  There  were  other  men.  They  were 
needed  to  keep  the  judge  at  his  best.  One 
may  wipe  the  other  men  out  of  the  fore 
ground  of  the  picture,  Bobby,  but  it  is  al 
ways  well  to  have  them  hovering  in  the 
middle  distance,  so  that,  occasionally,  one 
of  them  may  be  brought  forward  as  a  pace 
maker. 

"  The  judge  says  that  he  is  Irish.  I  have 
a  firm  conviction  that  his  ancestors  lived  in 
Africa  and  understood  the  use  of  the 
stuffed  club.  His  system  was  a  nineteenth- 
century  translation  of  the  original  African 
version.  I  liked  it.  I  really  did.  I  had 


78       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

never  been  bullied  and  adored,  at  one  and 
the  same  time,  by  a  distinctly  vertebrate 
being,  and  the  sensation  was  pleasant,  but 
awesome.  I  was  just  a  little  bit  afraid  of 
him. 

"  The  summer  went  by,  pleasantly  enough  ; 
and  when  October  came,  I  was  n't  as  inter 
ested  as  I  had  been.  Or,  yes  ;  I  was  as 
interested,  but  I  had  grown  used  to  the 
sensation.  It  was  like  taking  a  tonic.  One 
finally  reaches  a  point  where  the  tonic 
does  n't  spur  the  system.  Caviare  and 
cocktails  lose  their  effect  if  taken  regu 
larly.  That 's  a  great  natural  law,  Bobby, 
that  ought  to  be  in  the  manual  of  compul 
sory  education  for  young  men  and  women 
in  love. 

"  The  other  day  I  saw  in  a  magazine 
a  column  headed  'First  Aid  to  Wounded 
Hearts.'  I  feel  that  I  could  make  such  a 
column  both  edifying  and  helpful.  Do  you 
know,  Bobby,  the  Chinese  have  some  very 
knowing  proverbs.  One  of  them  is  en 
graved  on  a  charm  that  was  given  to  me  by 
a  Chinese  student  at  Harvard.  Did  you 
ever  see  a  Chinaman  in  love  ? — But  that 's 
another  story.  About  this  proverb.  It 
looks  like  a  dismembered  spider  ;  but  my 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        79 

Chinaman  said  it  meant,  '  Do  nothing  too 
much.'  I  wish  I  had  a  pocketful  of  those 
charms,  Bobby.  I  'd  like  to  distribute  them 
among  the  men  I  know  best. 

"  The  judge  was  well  educated,  but  he 
needed  to  read  the  Chinese  classics.  He 
was  delightful,  but  I  yearned  for  novelty. 
Even  the  maids  have  their  Thursday  after 
noons  and  Sunday  evenings  off. 

"  Just  when  my  yawn  was  getting  beyond 
polite  control,  something  happened. 

"  The  judge  had  been  at  the  house  on 
Saturday  evening,  and  I  had  promised  to 
go  for  a  walk  with  him  at  two  o'clock  on 
Sunday — not  that  the  judge  loved  walking, 
Bobby,  but  that  he  hated  other  Sunday 
callers.  Sunday  morning,  one  of  my  aunt's 
friends  telephoned  to  me.  She  was  to  have 
a  Cleveland  man  to  dinner.  He  was  rich 
and  handsome  and  clever  and  jolly,  and  he 
liked  all  the  things  I  liked,  and  he  could 
flirt  in  six  languages.  In  fact  he  was  a 
registered  lady-killer,  but  was  himself  in 
vulnerable.  She  wanted  me  to  meet  him. 
I  positively  must  help  her.  The  baby  had 
been  croupy  all  night  and  she  was  a  wreck. 
Her  husband  was  down  with  grippe  and 
stupid  as  an  owl.  Humanity  demanded  that 


8o       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

I  should  save  the  Paragon  of  the  World 
from  a  stupid  time.  Would  n't  I,  could  n't 
I  come  to  the  rescue  and  dine  with  her,  at 
one  o'clock  ? 

"  Now,  Bobby,  that  Cleveland  man  seemed 
like  a  direct  answer  to  prayer.  I  could  n't 
consistently  turn  from  the  gift  of  a  kind 
Providence.  To  be  sure,  there  was  the 
judge.  He  was  off  in  the  country  for  the 
morning,  so  I  could  n't  send  him  word. 
Then,  too,  I  doubted  his  thinking  the  ex 
cuse  valid.  Men  have  absolutely  no  sense 
of  proportion  in  such  matters,  and  I  Ve  often 
noticed  that  altruism  is  n't  the  '  magerful ' 
man's  crowning  virtue. 

"  I  hesitated.  I  was  too  fond  of  the  old 
friend  to  be  willing  to  offend  him,  but  my 
soul  did  thirst  for  fresh  fields  and  pastures 
new.  I  could  have  stood  the  wealth,  beauty, 
cleverness,  etc.,  but  the  '  lady-killer '  and  '  in 
vulnerable  '  caught  me.  Never,  never  should 
the  name  of  my  father's  daughter  go  ring 
ing  down  the  corridors  of  time  with  a  stigma 
of  cowardice  clinging  to  it.  A  lady-killer 
and  invulnerable  ! — 

"  The  judge  went  to  the  wall.  I  went  to 
the  dinner. 

"  The  blessed  baby  was  croupy  enough 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        81 

to  need  his  mother.  The  father  was  grippy 
enough  to  sleep.  The  Cleveland  Paragon 
was  most  of  the  things  in  the  advertise 
ment — but  invulnerable  ?  Well,  I  don't 
know. 

"  I  had  thought  I  might  hurry  home  after 
dinner,  and  that  possibly  the  judge  would 
wait.  So  I  had  ordered  the  carriage  at 
2.30.  It  came,  and  I  offered  to  set  the 
Paragon  down  at  his  hotel.  It  was  a  glori 
ous  October  day.  We  climbed  into  the 
trap.  The  air  was  like  wine.  The  Paragon 
sighed  something  about  the  beauty  of  the 
country  on  such  a  day.  I  felt  that  I  was 
retiring  from  the  field  too  early  in  the  en 
gagement.  My  heart  made  one  last  effort 
to  be  true  to  Poll — meaning  the  judge. 
Then  I  said  : 

"  '  Would  you  like  a  country  drive  ? ' 

"  He  would. 

"  We  had  it. 

"At  6.15,  I  drove  up  to  my  aunt's  door. 
The  Paragon  had  been  dumped  at  the  hotel. 
The  sun  was  down.  The  color  had  gone 
out  of  the  day,  and  the  pangs  of  remorse 
had  set  in.  I  knew  I  had  n't  been  decent, 
and  I  had  an  awful  conviction  that  I  had 
offended  the  judge,  and  that  he  would  n't 

6 


82       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

come  around  easily.  I  liked  him  better  than 
sixteen  of  the  Paragon,  and  I  did  n't  know 
how  to  propitiate  him. 

"I  Ve  always  contended  that  the  way  of 
the  transgressor  is  hard — to  find ;  but  I  had 
found  it,  and  it  seemed  that  the  Sunday- 
school  books  were  quite  right.  I  was  even 
ready  to  believe  that  a  little  boy  who  would 
fish  on  Sunday  would  be  drowned. 

"  If  any  other  man  had  been  in  question, 
I  would  have  told  him  the  truth  calmly,  and 
allowed  him  to  like  it  or  dislike  it  as  he 
chose ;  but  I  did  n't  want  the  judge  to  dis 
like  it — or  me ;  and  I  was  afraid  of  him. 
Let  this  story  be  a  warning  to  you,  Bobby. 
Don't  be  awesome.  You  may  win  the  girl 
by  it ;  but  you  will  probably  drive  her  from 
the  path  of  childlike  frankness  and  veracity. 

"  I  said  to  myself  : 

" '  Nancy,  my  child,  verily,  descensus 
Averni  is  appallingly  facilis.  You  must  lie, 
lie  stoutly  and  consistently.  So  may  you 
keep  your  friend  with  the  bad  disposition, 
though  you  may  lose  your  self-respect. 
You  would  probably  miss  your  self-respect 
much  less  than  you  would  miss  the  friend 
with  the  bad  disposition.' 

"  Monday  morning  I  called  up  the  Court- 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY        83 

house  on  the  telephone.  The  judge's  voice 
was  honeyed.  That  made  me  uneasy.  I 
apologized.  He  quite  understood.  That 
was  uncanny.  I  confounded  myself  in  ex 
planations.  I  descended  to  trivialities. 
There  I  made  a  fatal  error.  A  well-told  lie 
never  goes  into  details,  you  know.  I  told 
the  man  at  the  other  end  of  the  'phone 
how  worried  I  had  been  because  I  had  to 
go  to  the  dinner,  how  I  hurried  home  the 
moment  I  could  escape,  how  I  reached  there 
just  after  he  left,  how  sorry  I  was  that  he 
was  too  impatient  to  wait  even  a  few  mo 
ments. 

"He  said  'yes,  yes,'  to  everything.  His 
voice  was  as  the  voice  of  a  cooing  dove, 
Bobby.  He  begged  me  not  to  bother  my 
head  about  the  matter.  He  had  n't  misun 
derstood  me  for  a  moment. 

"  I  rang  off.  It  all  seemed  too  good  to 
be  true,  and  his  angelic  confidence  in  me 
made  me  feel  like  a  '  houn '  dog ' — as  my 
Virginia  cousin  would  say.  But  I  made  an 
offering  to  Mercury,  god  of  lies ;  and, 
that  evening  I  put  on  my  new  pink  frock. 
The  judge  did  n't  come.  He  did  n't  come 
the  next  evening.  Bobby,  he  never  saw 
that  pink  frock  !  It  was  worn  out  before 


84       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

he  spent  another  evening  with  me  !  I  did  n't 
meet  him  anywhere  in  society,  for  he  did  n't 
go  out  at  all  during  the  rest  of  that 
winter.  Occasionally  I  did  meet  him  on 
the  street.  He  was  as  genial  as  a  May 
morning.  He  beamed  on  me.  He  even 
stood  by  the  carriage  and  talked  to  me,  if 
some  one  else  was  with  me.  Really,  you 
know,  it  was  maddening.  I  could  n't  ask 
him  what  was  the  matter,  when  he  gave  me 
no  reason  to  think  he  was  offended  and 
treated  me  most  amiably.  He  had  a  right 
to  stay  away  from  the  house  if  he  wanted 
to  do  it,  and  I  was  too  proud  to  protest.  I 
felt  sure  there  was  something  wrong  about 
that  Sunday  business,  but  what  could  I  do  ? 

"In  February  I  came  home.  In  June  I 
went  back  to  my  aunt's  to  spend  a  month. 
No  one  knew  I  was  expected ;  and  the  day 
after  I  arrived  I  went  to  a  picnic.  The 
judge  was  there.  Every  one  was  surprised 
to  see  me,  and  he  seemed  a  trifle  upset,  but 
he  was  very  cordial.  In  the  afternoon  the 
crowd  started  across  the  woods  to  the  place 
where  the  servants  were  to  have  supper 
ready.  The  judge  happened  to  walk  with 
me,  and  I  sprained  my  ankle. 

"  I  really  did,  Bobby ;  no  fake  at  all.     It 


85 

swelled  so  that  my  shoe  had  to  be  cut.  I 
tried  to  walk  and  not  make  a  fuss  ;  but  we 
lagged  behind,  and  finally  I  could  n't  take 
another  step.  I  just  dropped  down  on  the 
grass  and  the  tears  came  into  my  eyes. 
The  judge  plumped  down  beside  me  and  saw 
the  tears.  He  had  never  seen  me  cry  be 
fore.  I  seldom  do  it,  Bobby.  I  have  a 
feeling  that  crying  before  a  man  is  taking 
an  unfair  advantage,  making  a  duelling 
opponent  stand  with  the  sun  in  his  eyes,  or 
something  of  that  kind.  I  do  like  a  fair 
fight.  Then,  again,  Bobby,  I  'm  a  thrifty 
soul.  Tears,  like  a  lie,  are  too  good  a  thing 
to  be  wasted.  They  should  be  reserved  for 
crucial  occasions. 

"  But  I  cried.  My  haughty  friend  thawed 
slightly. 

" '  Why,  you  poor  child,  is  it  so  bad  as 
that  ? '  he  said. 

"  I  nodded.  Sympathy  was  the  last  straw. 
My  ankle  did  hurt  so,  and  he  had  been  such 
a  horrid  brute,  and  I  felt  so  shamefully 
abused  that  I  wept  floods.  It  was  a  disgust 
ing  exhibition,  Bobby,  and  I  'm  not  pretty 
when  I  cry.  My  face  all  screws  up  and  gets 
swollen  and  splotchy.  But  the  judge  did 
the  only  thing  a  rational  man  could  do,  un- 


der  the  circumstances.  When  I  got  my 
breath —  Bobby,  you  can't  help  being  bad- 
tempered,  but  you  need  n't  be  impolite. 
You  've  an  evil  mind.  I  was  about  to  ex 
plain  that  I  was  choked  with  tears. 

"  Well,  when  I  did  get  my  breath,  I  told 
him  what  I  thought  about  his  behavior.  I 
was  positively  eloquent  over  my  wrongs.  I 
would  have  convinced  any  jury. 

"  '  Of  course  you  were  not  in  any  way  to 
blame  for  the  coolness,'  said  the  judge. 

" '  Indeed  I  was  n't.  You  never  had  a 
better  friend.' 

"  '  And  that  October  Sunday  ? ' 

" '  I  explained  about  that  and  you  said  it 
was  all  right.  Why  were  n't  you  honest  about 
it  ?  I  hate  a  man  who  can't  tell  the  truth." 

"  Oh,  Bobby,  did  n't  I  just  lay  myself  open 
to  an  upper  cut  ? 

"  The  judge  smiled.  I  did  n't  like  that 
smile. 

" '  Yes,  I  know.  I  suppose  I  was  unrea 
sonable.  You  did  hurry  home  and  got 
there  just  after  I  left.' 

"His  tone  was  queer.  It  had  an  unnatu 
ral  sweetness  about  it.  But  there  was  n't 
anything  for  me  to  do  except  stick  to  my 
story. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       87 

"'Yes,'  I  said. 

" '  Well,  my  dear  young  woman,  it  may 
interest  you  to  know  that  when  I  left  your 
house,  at  three  minutes  past  two,  I  called 
on  the  girl  who  lives  next  door  to  you.  I 
don't  remember  her  name.' 

'"Margaret  Wilson,'  I  said  faintly.  A 
great  light  began  to  dawn  upon  me.  No 
one  ever  called  on  the  Wilsons.  They  were 
utterly  hopeless. 

" '  Exactly.  I  had  been  invited  to  call 
there,  but  had  never  intended  going.  I 
changed  my  mind  and  went.  I  made  a  very 
long  call.  Miss  Wilson  was  quite  fluttered 
by  the  sudden  burst  of  appreciation.  I  sup 
pose  she  wonders  why  I  never  came  back. 
I  stayed  until  I  saw  you  get  out  of  the  trap 
at  your  door.  Then  I  looked  at  my  watch. 
It  was  fifteen  minutes  past  six.  I  took  my 
hat  and  went  home.  I  was  n't  happy,  but  I 
tried  to  give  you  the  benefit  of  the  doubt. 

"  '  Your  telephone  story  the  next  morn 
ing  did  away  with  the  doubt.  I  hate  a 
woman  who  can't  tell  the  truth.  I  don't 
allow  any  woman  to  make  a  fool  of  me 
twice.' 

"  Oh,  Bobby,  Bobby,  if  he  is  ever  like  that 
when  he  sentences  a  criminal  to  death,  the 


88       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

poor  thing  will  never  live  to  be  hanged.  I 
touched  bottom  in  shame  and  mortification. 
He  got  up  and  towered  over  me.  He 
looked  horribly  big  and  angry.  His  tone 
was  enough  to  wither  me.  I  heard  my  hair 
singe. 

"  Then  suddenly  the  humorous  side  of  the 
thing  rolled  over  me  like  a  flood.  To  think 
of  the  touches  I  gave  to  that  lie,  while  all 
the  time  he  knew  the  truth  !  How  I  patted 
the  story  and  bolstered  it  up  and  polished 
it,  and  then  tied  myself  up  in  a  hangman's 
noose,  while  he  listened  with  that  detestable 
smile.  The  joke  was  on  me,  and  I  would 
have  appreciated  it  if  I  had  known  I  was  to 
die  the  next  moment.  I  dropped  back  on  the 
moss  and  positively  howled  for  glee.  Then 
I  had  hysterics  for  the  first  time  in  my  life. 

"  The  judge  was  livid  with  rage. 

"  '  I  thought  you  might  have  the  grace  to 
be  ashamed  of  it.  But  it  seems  I  don't 
know  you  yet/ 

"  I  wiped  my  eyes. 

"  '  Oh,  yes.  I  'm  ashamed,  but  it  's  the 
funniest  thing  I  ever  heard.'  And  off  I  went 
into  more  hysterics. 

"He  glowered. 

"  *  Stop  that,  or  I  '11  lose  my  temper  and 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       89 

shake  you  ! '  he  said.     African  ancestor  to 
the  fore,  you  see. 

"  I  sat  up  and  looked  defiant. 

" '  You  're  the  one  to  be  ashamed,'  I  said. 
'  Are  you  proud  of  having  such  an  ugly, 
vicious  disposition  that  even  your  best  friend 
is  afraid  to  tell  you  the  truth,  and  is  driven 
to  lying  because  she  can't  depend  on  your 
sense  of  justice,  and  can't  bear  the  thought 
of  losing  your  friendship  ? 

"  '  I  would  n't  have  lied  to  any  one  else.  I 
hate  lies.  I  had  done  a  foolish  thing  and 
was  sorry,  and  I  cared  such  a  lot  about 
what  you  would  think,  and  I  knew  you 
would  n't  be  manly  and  kind,  and — '  Well, 
Bobby,  I  '11  spare  you  the  details. 

"  It  was  a  beautiful  piece  of  special  plead 
ing.  At  the  end  of  it  any  judge  and  jury 
would  have  freed  the  original  defendant  and 
sentenced  the  original  plaintiff  to  be  hanged 
by  the  neck  until  he  was  dead. 

"  The  judge  was  most  contrite. 

"  I  finally  forgave  him. 

"  A  woman  makes  a  fatal  mistake,  Bobby, 
if  she  ever  allows  a  man  to  think  he  is  for 
giving  her.  The  judge  and  I  have  been  the 
best  of  friends  ever  since ;  only  he  does  n't 
believe  anything  I  tell  him,  unless  I  swear 


90       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

to  it  before  a  notary,  and  he  has  his  doubts 
then.  That  's  why  he  keeps  on  asking  me 
to  marry  him.  I  tell  him  I  can't  do  it,  but 
he  does  n't  believe  me.  It 's  a  most  painful 
thing  to  have  a  bad  reputation,  Bobby.  I 
hope  my  experience  will  be  a  warning  to 
you." 

"  It  will,"  said  Bobby,  with  gloomy  sig 
nificance. 

Nancy  laughed 


MISTAKEN  DIAGNOSIS 


V 
MISTAKEN  DIAGNOSIS 

;*  I  MAY  have  my  faults,"  said  Nancy,  look- 
*  ing  appropriately  modest ;  "but  at  any 
rate  I  have  no  vanity." 

The  man  who  came  often,  being  wise  in 
his  generation,  made  no  audible  comment, 
but  he  grinned,  and  Nancy  resented  the  grin. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  of  course  you  think  that  be 
cause  I  straighten  my  hat  every  time  I  pass 
a  mirror,  and  because  I  like  pretty  clothes, 
I  'm  vain  ;  but  that  is  n't  vanity.  It  is  habit. 
Vanity  is  something  bigger  than  that,  and 
I  Ve  always  feared  I  had  the  big  kind ; 
but  my  mind  is  relieved.  I  Ve  conclusively 
proved  that  my  sense  of  humor  takes  up  all 
the  space  that  is  usually  given  over  to  vanity 
in  a  woman's  head." 

"Who  was  the  man?"  asked  the  blower 
of  smoke  rings,  who  occupied  the  divan. 

"  Why  should  there  be  a  man  in  it  ?  "  pro 
tested  Nancy  hotly.  "  Positively,  the  ego 
tism  of  men  is  colossal.  The  Pyramids 
ought  to  be  knocked  out  of  the  list  of  the 

93 


94       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

seven  wonders  of  the  world  and  masculine 
egotism  put  in  their  place.  A  man  thinks  a 
woman  cannot  do  anything,  think  anything, 
feel  anything,  unless  a  man  is  concerned. 
For  my  part,  I  could  jog  along  very  comfor 
tably  if  there  should  be  another  flood,  and 
the  new  ark  could  accommodate  only  the 
feminine  things.  To  be  sure,  there  was  a 
man  in  this  story,  but  he  was  quite  acciden 
tal.  I  know  lots  of  interesting  stories  that 
have  n't  a  man  even  in  their  prologues  or 
epilogues.  As  for  a  man  who  grins  like  a 
Cheshire  cat,  I  would  n't  put  him  in  any 
sort  of  story.  He  is  n't  fit  for  anything 
literary  except  a  tooth-powder  advertise 
ment." 

"  Tell  me  the  story,"  urged  Bobby,  un 
moved  by  abuse,  and  grinning  more  cheer 
fully  than  ever.  Nobody  really  minds 
Nancy's  bad  temper.  Only  homely  women 
are  forced  to  choose  between  excessive  ami 
ability  and  unpopularity. 

"  This  story  goes  back  to  the  creation," 
began  the  girl  without  vanity. 

"  Passons  au  ddluge"  quoted  her  audience, 
entreatingly.  She  frowned  him  down. 

"  Jack  Button  and  I  were  born  next  door 
to  each  other." 


I  may  have  my  faults,'  said  Nancy,  '  but  at  any  rate  I  have 
no  vanity  '  ' 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       95 

"  This  sounds  familiar.  Were  there  apple- 
trees  in  the  garden  ?  " 

"  There  were,  and  we  ate  the  green  apples 
with  salt,  and  obtained  a  knowledge  of 
evil  that  kept  our  mothers  awake  nights. 
Really,  though,  you  know,  Jack  was  a  very 
nice  little  boy — no  such  muff  as  Adam.  He 
always  did  things  first,  and  invited  me  into 
the  game,  and  never  peached,  and  always 
took  whippings  for  both  of  us.  The  modern 
Adam  may  be  just  as  sinful  as  the  old  Adam, 
but  at  least  he  has  learned  to  lie  like  a  gen 
tleman. 

"  Well," — Nancy  never  can  get  a  fair  run 
ning  start  until  she  has  said  "well," — "  Jack 
went  away  to  school  and  we  moved  to  New 
York,  and  I  did  n't  see  him  again  or  hear 
anything  about  him  until  this  fall.  One 
day  I  went  to  a  club's  ladies'  day.  Some 
one  said,  '  May  I  present  Dr.  Button?'  and 
there  was  Jack.  He  was  a  splendid  big  fel 
low,  with  grave  eyes  and  a  Van  Dyke  beard 
and  a  nice  voice.  I  knew  him  at  once,  but 
he  did  n't  recognize  me  until  I  spoke.  Put 
ting  up  one's  hair  and  putting  down  one's 
skirts  and  wearing  New  York  clothes  does 
make  a  difference,  you  know.  The  last 
time  Jack  had  seen  me  I  had  a  mop  of  short 


96       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

hair  and  a  short  checked  pinafore  and  no 
shoes  or  stockings,  and  I  was  hanging  out  of 
the  big  elm  tree  at  the  front  gate  to  watch 
him  go  by  to  the  train.  When  I  gurgled 
1  Jack,'  he  knew.  We  fell  upon  each  other's 
necks  and  went  off  to  a  corner  and  scandalized 
my  chaperon.  He  was  a  surgeon,  quite  a  fa 
mous  surgeon,  if  you  please,  and  he  lived 
near  us.  He  wanted  to  call  that  night  and 
take  me  to  the  theatre  the  next  night  and 
play  golf  with  me  on  Saturday.  It  seemed 
almost  like  a  special  providence  that  you  had 
gone  to  California  two  days  before  and  made 
room  for  him." 

"  You  did  n't  say  anything  about  him  in 
your  letters,"  said  Bobby,  studying  a  par 
ticularly  fat  smoke  ring  with  deep  interest. 

Nancy  looked  surprised. 

"  Now  why  should  I  write  to  you  about 
him  ?  You  and  he  had  n't  any  early  asso 
ciations  to  bind  you  together.  I  thought 
you  would  rather  hear  about  me." 

"  It 's  exceedingly  difficult  to  get  a  snap 
shot  of  you,  without  finding  a  man  in  the 
picture.  I  'm  reconciled  to  groups.  When 
there  is  no  man  in  your  letters,  I  know  I  'm 
getting  expurgated  editions,  and  I  resent  it. 
Now  about  this  surgeon " 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       97 

"  He  was  very  nice." 

"  We  are  all  nice  when  sufficiently  in 
love." 

"  You  should  take  the  treatment,  Bobby." 

"  If  I  were  any  nicer  than  I  am  you  would 
marry  me,  and  then  who  would  entertain 
me  ?  Does  a  surgeon  in  love  show  the  or 
dinary  symptoms  ?  " 

Nancy  laughed. 

"  The  symptoms  are  n't  different,  but 
there  were  complications  in  this  case." 

"  Mother  object  ? " 

"  Oh  dear  no.  That  would  n't  be  a  com 
plication.  She  has  always  objected  to  you." 

"Your  mother's  anxiety  is  the  only  thing 
that  encourages  me,"  sighed  Bobby.  "  Go 
on  with  the  story." 

"  People  talked  a  good  deal.  They  hoped 
I  was  going  to  be  sensible  at  last,  and  marry 
an  eligible  man.  Do  you  know,  Bobby, 
I  Ve  been  a  great  benefactor  to  my  social 
circle.  They  must  talk,  and  to  provide  them 
with  fresh  material  is  my  chief  aim  in  life. 
I  'm  thinking  of  starting  a  club  for  the  pro 
motion  of  polite  conversation,  each  member 
guaranteeing  to  furnish  a  certain  number  of 
acts  that  would  provide  food  for  gossip 
every  fortnight.  There  would  be  a  woman's 


98       THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

club  uniting  entertainment  and  philanthropy, 
which  is  more  than  most  of  them  can  do." 

Bobby  shook  his  head. 

"  Supererogation,  my  dear  child.  Indi 
vidual  feminine  folly  and  feminine  imagina 
tion  will  keep  the  wheels  of  gossip  running. 
Organization  and  united  effort  are  n't  neces 
sary.  Just  go  on  doing  your  best,  alone. 
So  far  you  have  n't  anything  to  reproach 
yourself  with.  You  can  be  relied  upon  for 
at  least  one  topic  a  fortnight ;  and  when 
things  are  slow,  I  'm  always  on  hand  to 
furnish  material." 

"  No  one  except  mother  talks  about  you 
any  more.  She  has  no  confidence  in  my 
common  sense.  I  'm  much  more  rational 
than  my  family  believes.  I  've  always  un 
derstood,  Bobby,  that  you  were  an  impossi 
ble  person." 

"  Make  it  improbable,"  suggested  the 
detrimental,  serenely. 

"  Mother  liked  Jack." 

"How  much  was  his  practice  worth  ?" 

"  And  they  call  women  cats  ;  Bobby,  she 
loved  him  for  his  personal  charms  and  vir 
tues.  So  did  I.  I  Ve  always  said  I  would  n't 
marry  a  doctor,  but  a  surgeon  is  n't  so  bad. 
Patients  don't  make  up  their  minds  in  the 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY       99 

middle  of  the  night  to  have  their  legs  cut 
off,  and  a  surgeon  can  take  his  wife  to  even 
ing  functions  without  having  messengers 
tumbling  up  the  front  steps  after  him  all 
evening.  I  had  come  round  to  the  point 
where  I  thought  life  with  a  surgeon  might 
be  endurable  when  Priscilla  came  to  spend 
two  months  with  me.  She  thought  Jack 
was  splendid.  After  he  called  the  night  she 
arrived,  she  went  into  mother's  room,  and 
she  and  mother  talked  for  hours.  Then 
Priscilla  came  in  to  me  and  tried  to  look  as 
if  they  had  been  discussing  steam  heat  and 
sanitary  plumbing.  She  reached  Jack  by 
way  of  the  Philippines  and  the  South  Afri 
can  veldts,  and  dropped  him  into  the  con 
versation  as  though  she  had  n't  thought  of 
him  since  the  door  closed  on  him.  She 
talked  about  his  good  looks  and  his  air 
of  distinction.  She  liked  his  eyes,  and 
thought  he  talked  uncommonly  well,  and 
she  was  sure  he  would  make  a  mark  for 
himself  in  the  world.  He  was  the  kind  of 
man  any  sensible  woman  could  love,  and  it 
was  easy  to  see  what  he  thought  of  me.  Oh, 
she  went  on  that  way  for  hours.  She 
was  still  talking  when  I  went  to  sleep,  but 
I  did  n't  confide  in  her,  because  I  had  n't 


anything-  to  confide.  I  just  said  '  Yes,  yes,' 
at  stated  intervals. 

"  Jack  came  more  and  more  often.  He 
was  a  positive  nuisance.  I  could  n't  open 
the  front  door  without  his  tumbling  into  the 
hall,  and  he  sent  flowers,  and  candy,  and 
books,  and  theatre  tickets.  He  was  awfully 
nice  to  Priscilla,  always  wanted  her  to  go 
with  us  everywhere,  insisted  upon  it  vehe 
mently,  and  never  left  her  out  of  anything. 
I  appreciated  that  immensely.  I  did  want 
her  to  have  a  good  time  during  her  visit, 
and  some  men  are  horrid  about  one's  girl 
friends.  Now,  you  were  never  nice  to  Pris 
cilla." 

"  There 's  only  one  being  I  dislike  more 
than  Priscilla,  and  that 's  your  skye  terrier. 
It  makes  me  vicious  to  see  you  spoon  with 
either  of  them,"  said  the  man,  calmly. 

"  Ugly,  envious  disposition  you  have ! 
Jack  was  different.  He  said  he  thought  a 
loyal  friendship  between  two  girls  was  a 
beautiful  thing,  and  he  would  let  me  rave 
about  Priscilla  by  the  hour.  I  was  ashamed 
sometimes,  after  he  had  gone,  to  think  how 
much  I  had  talked  about  her,  and  how  patient 
he  had  been.  She  admired  him  tremen 
dously,  never  was  tired  of  singing  his  praises. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      101 

I  went  to  sleep  every  night  with  the  chant 
in  my  ears.  She  would  n't  stay  in  the  room 
when  he  came ;  always  made  some  sort  of 
an  excuse  and  fled,  although  I  stormed  about 
it.  It  looked  horribly  pointed.  Priscilla 
would  n't  go  out  with  us  once  in  a  blue 
moon,  either.  She  'd  promise  ;  but,  at  the 
last  moment,  she  would  have  neuralgia  or 
tonsillitis,  or  anything  short  of  smallpox. 
She  even  sprained  her  ankle  for  the  Yale- 
Princeton  football  game,  and  sat  around 
with  it  bandaged  for  days.  I  'm  positive 
there  was  n't  a  thing  wrong  with  it,  but 
mother  did  the  bandaging.  Jack  did  n't  get 
along  as  fast  as  he  might  have  done  with 
all  the  help  he  had.  He  was  devoted  and 
chummy,  but  he  seemed  diffident.  By  and 
by  he  reached  the  quiet,  dreamy  stage,  where 
he  sat  and  stared  at  me  by  the  hour,  and 
opened  and  shut  his  mouth  once  in  a  while 
without  saying  anything.  Then  he  got 
where  he  talked  about  love — in  the  abstract, 
you  know,  about  what  a  woman  could  mean 
in  a  man's  life,  and  what  a  man  ought  to  be 
for  the  sake  of  a  girl  he  loves,  and  men's  un- 
worthiness,  and  women's  angelic  attributes, 
and  homes,  and  children,  and  old  age,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing." 


102     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

The  man  who  came  often  sat  up. 

"  Bless  my  soul !  Is  that  the  way  to  do 
it  ?  I  'm  afraid  I  —  well,  it  's  so  long 
ago  that  I  don't  remember  distinctly,  but 
was  n't  I  inartistically  direct  ?  "  he  inquired, 
anxiously. 

44  You  were.  You  did  n't  follow  any  of 
the  rules  of  the  game." 

"  No  wonder  I  was  n't  a  success.  Still 
there  's  Vardon.  His  golf  form  is  n't  at  all 
according  to  law  and  gospel,  but  he  does 
win  out.  On  the  whole,  I  '11  just  try  to  keep 
my  eye  on  the  ball,  and  won't  change  my 
form.  Did  Jack  put  well  ?  " 

Nancy  frowned. 

"  This  is  a  serious  story,  Bobby.  It  's 
rude  to  interrupt.  Jack  asked  my  opinion 
about  all  sorts  of  points  in  love  and  matri 
mony.  He  could  n't  get  away  from  the 
subject,  but  he  stuck  to  glittering  generali 
ties.  He  did  n't  have  the  moral  courage  to 
particularize." 

44 1  thought  so.  He  may  be  good  on  a 
long  drive,  but  I  can  beat  his  putting," 
murmured  Bobby. 

"  Now  I  liked  Jack,  liked  him  heartily. 
I  did  n't  want  him  to  ask  me  to  marry  him  un 
less  I  intended  to  say  yes.  There  's  a  great 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      103 

deal  of  entertainment  in  finding  out  whether 
a  man  is  in  love ;  but,  having  satisfied  her 
curiosity,  a  nice  girl  spares  a  man  the  hu 
miliation  of  being  rejected  if  she  can." 

The  man  who  came  often  looked  im 
pressed. 

"  Then,  if  she  allows  him  to  propose,  it  is 
because  she  intends  marrying  him  ?  Nancy, 
this  is  a  delicate  way  of  breaking  the  glad 
news  to  me.  You  Ve  made  me  a  happy  man. 
Suppose  we  drop  Jack  and  celebrate  the 
joyous  occasion." 

Nancy's  cheeks  were  red. 

"  I  mean  it,"  she  said,  hotly.  "  I  detest 
proposals.  You  propose  every  other  day, 
but  it  does  n't  hurt  you  because  you  are  n't 
in  earnest.  I  'm  talking  about  sensitive 
men,  capable  of  real  feeling.  I  was  very 
serious  about  Jack.  He  was  honest  and 
moral  and  clever  and  rich.  There  did  n't 
seem  to  be  a  flaw  in  him.  He  would  make 
a  splendid  husband,  much  too  good  for  me, 
and  it  would  please  the  family.  Of  course 
I  was  n't  in  love  with  him.  I  was  more 
nearly  in  love  with  several  other  men,  but 
then  my  tastes  are  low.  I  felt  that  I  ought 
to  marry  Jack. 

"  At  last  I   talked  very  frankly  about  it 


104 

with  Priscilla.  I  had  n't  done  that  before. 
If  I  have  anything  to  say  about  the  men 
who  fall  in  love  with  me,  I  usually  say  it  to 
them,  not  to  my  girl  friends.  But  I  did 
talk  to  Priscilla.  She  treated  me  to  dis 
courses  that  sounded  as  if  she  had  cribbed 
them  from  Epictetus  or  Marcus  Aurelius. 
She  was  positively  oracular.  Her  ideas  on 
the  holy  state  of  matrimony  ought  to  be 
published  and  found  in  every  home.  She 
did  n't  think  I  ought  to  cherish  foolish  ideas 
of  love,  the  volcanic  absorbing  passion  had  n't 
any  decent  existence.  It  belonged  to  French 
novels  and  the  lower  classes.  Respect  and 
liking  and  confidence  were  the  things  on 
which  to  begin  housekeeping.  Incidentally 
it  was  well  to  have  a  bank  account.  It  fos 
tered  the  respect  and  confidence.  Here  was 
a  man  of  men,  a  paragon  of  all  the  virtues, 
much  too  good  for  me.  He  adored  me  and 
could  n't  help  making  me  happy.  It  would 
be  absurd,  mawkish,  suicidal,  to  say  '  no  '  to 
him,  just  because  it  did  n't  give  me  nervous 
chills  to  hear  his  footsteps  in  the  front  hall. 
I  had  heard  mother  talk  that  way,  but  Pris 
cilla  was  most  convincing.  She  should  go 
in  for  matrimonial  promoting  as  a  profes 
sion.  There  'd  be  a  fortune  for  her  in  it. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      105 

She  quite  brought  me  around.  Her  logic 
was  irrefutable.  I  still  sighed  for  the  ner 
vous  chills ;  but  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I 
must  get  along  without  them  and  marry 
virtue  incarnate,  in  the  shape  of  the  surgeon. 

"  One  night  I  cried  floods  of  tears,  and 
had  an  auto  da  fe  of  dreams  and  sentiment. 
The  next  day  I  told  Priscilla  I  would  allow 
Jack  to  propose  and  would  accept  him  that 
afternoon  when  he  dropped  in  for  tea.  Pris 
cilla  went  out  to  make  calls,  and  I  put  on 
my  pink  gown  and  the  expression  of  an  early 
Christian  martyr.  I  had  an  awful  conviction 
that  I  was  going  to  funk  at  the  fence,  but  at 
least  I  would  make  a  brave  start.  Jack 
did  n't  come.  At  six  o'clock  Priscilla  came 
in  with  a  horrible  headache,  and  asked  me 
just  to  let  her  alone  and  not  allow  any  one 
to  go  to  her  room.  I  was  sorry  for  her,  but 
I  felt  like  a  criminal  reprieved  at  the 
gallows. 

"  Jack  did  n't  come  that  night.  The  next 
day  I  had  a  note  apologizing — rush  of  work, 
would  be  up  in  a  few  days.  I  asked  Pris 
cilla  if  she  did  n't  think  it  queer,  and  she 
did.  She  was  awfully  nice  to  me,  seemed 
to  think  I  was  feeling  badly,  and  rubbed 
around  and  purred  and  made  a  doormat  of 


io6     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

herself  for  me.  I  never  knew  her  to  be  so 
devoted  and  humble.  She  told  me  how 
much  nicer  and  prettier  and  nobler  I  was  than 
she  had  ever  dreamed  of  being.  She  said  she 
was  n't  worthy  to  tie  my  shoelaces.  She  swore 
she  never  had  loved  a  friend  as  she  loved 
me  and  that  she  could  n't  be  disloyal  to  me 
if  she  tried.  She  gave  me  her  best  shell 
comb  and  tried  to  make  me  take  her  pearl 
locket.  I  was  n't  used  to  such  devotion,  and 
it  made  me  tired.  I  could  n't  live  up  to  it, 
and  I  did  n't  want  to  hurt  her  feelings.  One 
day  mother  came  to  me  and  asked  if  I  knew 
what  she  had  done  to  offend  Priscilla.  She 
said  the  child  hardly  spoke  to  her  and  seemed 
anxious  to  avoid  being  alone  with  her.  Jack 
did  n't  turn  up  that  week  nor  the  next,  and 
then,  the  third  week,  I  met  the  English  war 
correspondent,  and  I  did  n't  have  time  to 
think  about  Jack  until  just  before  Christmas. 
Priscilla  and  I  had  come  in  from  the  theatre, 
and  I  had  a  Christmasy  good-will-toward-men 
mood. 

"  '  I  'm  going  to  write  to  Jack  Dutton  and 
ask  him  what 's  the  matter,'  I  said. 

"  Priscilla  jumped.  '  Oh,  I  would  n't,'  she 
gasped,  and  then  she  blushed  scarlet.  I 
stared  at  her. 


107 

"  '  Why  not  ? '  I  asked.  '  It  's  the  queer 
est  thing  I  ever  heard  of,  the  way  he  has 
dropped  an  old  friend.  My  conscience  is 
clear,  and  something  's  wrong,  and  I  'm  go 
ing  to  know  what  it  is.' 

"  She  wriggled. 

" '  Priscilla,'  I  said,  sternly,  'you  know 
something  about  Jack — something  that  ex 
plains  the  whole  thing.' 

"  She  vowed  she  did  n't. 

"  Priscilla  should  never  lie.  Of  course, 
her  efforts  are  all  wrong  morally,  and  then 
they  are  so  crude  that  they  have  n't  any  ar 
tistic  value. 

"  I  took  her  by  the  shoulders  and  fixed 
her  with  an  eagle  eye.  She  opened  and 
shut  her  mouth  helplessly  and  began  to  cry. 

"  '  It  was  n't  my  fault,'  she  said.  '  I  never 
guessed ;  and  it  was  perfectly  ridiculous, 
and ' 

"  She  'd  be  stringing  words  yet  if  an  auro 
ral  dawn  had  n't  occurred  in  my  alleged 
brain. 

"  *  You  don't  mean  that  it  was  you  all  the 
time  ? '  I  gasped. 

"  She  was  a  picture  of  guilt.  One  might 
have  thought  she  had  our  spoons  in  her 
pockets. 


io8     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  She  plumped  down  on  the  floor  and  hid 
her  face  in  my  lap. 

"  I  was  paralyzed  for  one  thunderstruck 
moment.  Then  I  howled  for  glee. 

"  Priscilla  looked  up  at  me  with  a  weak, 
watery  smile  and  asked  me  if  I  was  angry. 

"  Angry? — Why  I  would  n't  have  missed  it 
for  worlds.  The  more  I  thought  about  it 
the  funnier  it  got.  It  was  such  an  all-em 
bracing  joke. 

"  Everybody  was  in  it. 

"  Think  of  Jack's  impotent  rage,  when 
Priscilla  kept  sliding  out  and  leaving  him 
alone  with  me.  Think  of  mother  being 
Machiavellian  and  having  her  hopes.  Think 
of  Priscilla  religiously  keeping  out  of  the  way. 

"  And,  oh  Bobby,  think  of  me,  sitting  up 
nights  to  decide  whether  I  'd  better  marry 
him,  and  sheering  him  off  from  a  proposal, 
while  all  the  time  he  was  trying  to  screw 
up  courage  to  tell  me  he  was  madly  in  love 
with  Priscilla." 

"  How  did  Priscilla  find  out  the  truth  ? " 
asked  Bobby  with  a  sympathetic  chuckle. 

"  Jack  met  her  on  the  street.  He  took 
her  into  the  Park  and  uncorked  his  soul. 
It  was  a  volcanic  eruption.  He  had  loved 
her  at  first  sight,  she  must  know  it.  Every 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      109 

one  must  have  known  it.  He  couldn't  live 
without  her.  She  was  heartless,  cruel. 

"  She  told  him  she  had  thought  I  was  it, — 
that  we  had  all  thought  so.  That  stunned 
him.  Poor  Jack !  Priscilla  vowed  she 
would  never  see  him  again,  and  then  ran 
home  and  cried  all  night.  It  was  a  tragedy 
to  her.  It  ne.ver  entered  her  head  that  I 
would  think  the  thing  funny. 

"  I'm  glad  I'm  not  built  upon  proud  or 
tragic  lines,  Bobby. 

"  I  wrote  to  Jack  that  night  and  told  him 
that  I  would  forgive  him  for  trifling  with 
my  young  affections,  and  that  if  he'd  kindly 
come  up  and  make  love  to  Priscilla  I'd  take 
the  war  correspondent  out  for  a  walk  and 
try  to  repay  well  meant  services. 

"He  came.     They  are  engaged. 

"  If  any  young  man  wants  me  to  believe 
he  is  in  love  with  me  now,  he  has  to  swear 
to  it,  before  a  notary.  I  'm  not  staving  off 
any  proposals.  Let  them  all  come.  I  don't 
know  whether  they  are  mine  or  Priscilla's 
until  it 's  all  over." 


OUT  OF  THE  WEST 


1X1 


VI 

OUT  OF  THE  WEST 

"V^OU  haven't  heard  about  the  Texan, 
Bobby.      I  've   been    improving  the 
shining  hours  while  you  idled  at  Palm  Beach. 
Out  upon  you,  drone  ! " 

"  '  One  more  unfortunate'?"  asked  the 
man  who  came  often.  "  Where  is  the  victim  ?  " 

Nancy  sighed. 

"  I  don't  know." 

.  "  But,  gracious  powers,  I  Ve  been  gone 
only  a  week.  Don't  tell  me  you  Ve  allowed 
a  guilty  man  to  escape  ! " 

Bobby's  tone  was  distinctly  hopeful.  He 
longed  to  hear  that  some  resolute  fellow- 
man  had  resisted  Nancy's  wiles  and  vindi 
cated  his  sex. 

Nancy's  upper  lip  took  on  a  pathetic 
droop.  It  is  an  interesting  upper  lip.  It 
smiles,  and  weeps,  and  is  angry  before  any 
other  part  of  the  face  wakens. 

*'  He  stayed  only  one  day,"  the  young 
woman  said  mournfully,  "  and  things  were 
just  becoming  so  interesting." 

8 

113 


H4     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  I  could  love  that  Texan  like  a  brother," 
murmured  Bobby  fervently. 

"  But  he  made  considerable  progress  while 
he  was  here,"  twinkled  Nancy.  "  They  do 
these  things  better  in  Texas.  They  evi 
dently  understand  the  value  of  time  down 
there.  Their  ideas  don't  develop  by  geo 
logical  formation.  They  are  quick  on  the 
trigger,  these  Texans." 

"  It 's  a  habit  they  contract  through  social 
relations  with  horse-thieves,"  said  the  man 
who  came  often.  "  Did  this  Texan  drop 
from  a  clear  sky,  or  did  he  blow  in  with 
Buffalo  Bill?" 

"  The  Rollinses  captured  him.  Then  they 
did  n't  know  what  to  do  with  such  big  game, 
so  they  sent  for  me.  Mrs.  Rollins  wrote 
a  most  beseeching  note.  She  said  Jim  — 
that 's  her  husband,  you  know  —  was  mixed 
up  with  this  Texan  in  some  big  deal,  and 
they  had  to  do  things  for  him.  They  were 
to  dine  at  Delmonico's  that  night,  and  she 
really  could  n't  bear  the  brunt  alone.  She 
was  sure  I  could  put  the  man  at  his  ease, 
and  she  would  be  everlastingly  indebted  to 
me  if  I  would  come  to  her  rescue ;  but  she 
feared  she  was  imposing  on  me,  for  Jim  said 
the  guest  was  intensely  Western. 


' '  But   he   made    considerable    progress  while  he  was  here, 

twinkled  Nancy" 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      115 

"  Now,  Bobby,  Mrs.  Rollins  was  a  Bos- 
tonian  before  she  fell  from  grace  and  married 
a  New  York  man.  I  knew  that  what  Jim 
probably  did  say  was  that  the  Texan  was  a 
'  corker  —  a  wild  and  woolly  Indian.'  That 's 
Jim's  style,  but  translation  into  Bostonese 
does  soften  the  outlines  of  language. 

"  I  had  been  awfully  dull.  You  really 
should  n't  leave  town  in  Lent,  Bobby.  I 
call  it  inconsiderate." 

"  It  's  a  season  for  fasting,"  protested 
Bobby. 

"  Well,  I  Ve  always  insisted  that  self- 
mortification  can  be  carried  too  far.  I  'd 
rather  see  consistent  self-denial  throughout 
the  year  than 'one  orgy  of  asceticism.  That 's 
why  I  don't  allow  you  to  come  as  often  as 
you  'd  like  during  the  season,  and  I  don't 
rnind  giving  you  up  on  Fridays  during  Lent, 
but  one  must  have  some  amusement  for  the 
rest  of  the  week  evenings,  and  there  's  noth 
ing  going  on. 

"  You  were  at  Palm  Beach.  I  needed 
entertainment.  Enter  Texan.  I  call  that 
excellent  stage  management.  The  only 
trouble  was  that  the  curtain  was  hurried. 
In  the  words  of  the  poet,  '  I  only  knew  he 
came  and  went.' 


n6      THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  I  wrote  to  Mrs.  Rollins  and  told  her  I 
would  be  glad  to  oblige  her.  It  was  n't 
necessary  to  say  that  I  regarded  her  as  an 
angel  benefactress,  but  I  did. 

"  She  and  Mr.  Rollins  called  for  me  at 
6.45. 

"  When  we  drove  up  to  the  porte-cochere, 
a  man  who  was  standing  on  the  steps  threw 
away  a  cigar,  bowled  the  carriage  man  out 
of  the  way  as  if  he  had  been  a  ten-pin,  and 
opened  the  door  for  us. 

"  He  was  glad  to  meet  us.  He  said  Rol 
lins  had  proved  what  he  thought  of  Mrs. 
Rollins  by  marrying  her,  and  had  said  I  was 
the  real  thing,  and  he  had  lots  of  confidence 
in  Rollins'  judgment,  so  he  reckoned  our 
references  were  good.  He  'd  about  come  to 
the  conclusion  we  were  short  on  appetite. 
Dinner  had  been  waiting  for  him  since 
twelve  o'clock.  They  always  had  noon 
dinners  in  Wahoo.  A  New  York  woman 
went  down  there  once  and  had  late  dinners. 
She  wanted  her  nigger  cook  to  come  to  the 
door  and  say,  '  Dinner  is  served,'  but  the 
cook  drew  the  line  right  there. 

"  Finally  some  Eastern  syndicate  men 
were  to  dine  at  the  house,  and  the  missis 
told  the  nigger  she  'd  have  to  announce 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      117 

dinner  or  chuck  her  job.  (This  is  n't  my 
vocabulary,  Bobby  ;  it 's  the  Texan's.) 

"  Everybody  was  sitting  in  the  parlor  at 
6.30  that  evening  when  the  door  opened  and 
Mammy  stuck  her  head  in,  looking  scared 
to  death. 

"  '  Say,  folks,  yah  dinnah  's  dished/  she 
yelled.  Then  she  slammed  the  door  and  ran. 

"He  told  us  all  this  while  we  were  going 
up  the  steps.  He  had  n't  a  comma  concealed 
about  him. 

"  Breezy  ?  A  fifty-mile-an-hour-gale  is  a 
dead  calm  compared  with  him,  Bobby. 

"  He  had  a  voice  that  was  n't  exactly  loud, 
but  had  a  queer  ringing  quality  that  made 
it  carry  wonderfully.  I  never  met  '  clarion 
tones '  outside  of  a  poem,  but  I  guess  those 
were  clarion  tones.  He  said  he  had  tuned 
up  his  pipes  riding  round  and  round  bunches 
of  cattle  and  singing  to  them  to  keep  them 
from  stampeding.  His  voice  was  so  fresh 
and  clear  that  it  would  have  been  beautiful 
on  a  thirty-thousand-acre  range,  but  there 
seemed  to  be  rather  too  much  of  it  for  Del- 
monico's. 

"  Everybody  turned  to  look  at  the  man, 
and  grinned. 

" '  Is  this  the  modest,  shrinking  violet  I 


u8     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

was  to  put  at  ease  ? '  I  asked  Mrs.  Rollins 
in  the  cloak-room.  She  only  groaned.  Bos 
ton  and  Texas  have  no  points  of  contact. 
Now,  I  thought  the  man  delicious.  As  for 
being  made  conspicuous  —  well,  I  had  on 
my  pink  cloth.  That  gown  could  stand  the 
bright  white  light  that  beat  upon  the  Texan 
and  his  party. 

"  We  found  a  table.  Bill  dominated  the 
room. — No,  I  did  n't  call  him  '  Bill ' ;  but 
that 's  what  the  boys  call  him  in  Texas,  and 
it  fits  him  much  better  than  his  conven 
tional  title. 

"  Bobby,  he  was  the  biggest  thing  I  Ve 
ever  seen.  He  was  miles  high,  and  broad 
proportionately,  and  yet  he  did  n't  seem  to 
have  an  ounce  of  superfluous  flesh.  He 
looked  as  though  he  had  been  made  out  of 
whalebone  and  rawhide.  Everything  about 
him  worked  on  springs.  I  would  n't  have 
been  surprised  to  see  him  pull  out  a  six- 
shooter  and  begin  snuffing  the  candles,  or 
get  up  and  play  leap-frog  over  the  tables. 
It  was  like  playing  with  an  electric  dynamo 
to  associate  with  him.  He  seemed  to  have 
limitless  possibilities  of  explosion.  I  never 
realized  before  how  smooth-running  and 
colorless  the  ordinary  man  is. 


"  No  one  else  in  the  room  tried  to  talk. 
Our  wild  man  from  Wahoo  held  the  floor, 
from  oysters  to  coffee.  He  did  n't  pay  much 
attention  to  Mrs.  Rollins,  and  he  dropped 
Mr.  Rollins  with  the  entree.  After  that  my 
only  rival  was  the  head  waiter.  The  con 
versation  was  addressed  to  us.  Bill's  vo 
cabulary  was  n't  like  any  English  I  knew,  but 
we  always  seemed  to  catch  his  meaning.  So 
did  the  waiters.  So  did  everybody  in  the 
room  except  an  exquisite  Frenchman,  who 
sat  at  one  of  the  tables  near  us  and  stared 
at  the  Texan  as  if  hypnotized.  I  'd  like  to 
read  that  Frenchman's  Impressions  d'Amd- 
rique.  We  '11  be  in  it. 

"  Bill  was  n't  wearing  evening  clothes,  but 
he  did  n't  care.  His  foot  was  on  his  native 
heath,  and  he  patronized  us  all,  including  the 
head  waiter. 

"  I  've  always  been  afraid  of  that  head 
waiter  myself,  and  I  felt  that  I  could  love  a 
man  who  was  n't  awed  by  him. 

"  We  had  a  vanishing  procession  of  waiters 
all  evening.  One  came  and  stood  by  the 
table,  looking  like  a  wooden  image  until, 
suddenly,  his  face  began  to  twitch,  and  he 
showed  signs  of  apoplexy.  Then  he  fled, 
to  save  his  professional  reputation,  and  an- 


other  took  his  place.  The  continuous  per 
formance  bothered  Bill,  and  he  called  the 
head  waiter. 

"  '  Old  man,'  he  said,  '  your  boys  are  n't 
on  to  their  job.  It  makes  me  dizzy,  this 
trying  to  keep  track  of  our  man.  You 
ought  to  get  niggers.  They  '11  bear  watch 
ing,  but  they  beat  anything  for  waiting  on 
table.  I  used  to  have  a  nigger  in  Texas — a 
nigger  and  a  Chinaman.  They  ran  the 
shack,  and,  say,  they  were  the  smoothest 
combination  I  ever  saw.' 

"  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  that  head 
waiter,  Bobby.  He  looked  most  unhappy. 
His  dignity  was  tottering  to  a  fall,  and  yet 
he  wanted  to  stay  and  see  the  thing  through. 
Duty  triumphed.  He  tore  himself  away.  Our 
Texan  was  disappointed.  He  liked  that  head 
waiter  —  said  he  had  an  expression  a  good 
deal  like  that  of  a  friend  of  his  who  was 
shot  in  a  little  card-table  difficulty  last  fall. 
'  Nothing  could  make  a  muscle  of  Jack's 
face  quiver,'  he  added. 

"  The  head  waiter  being  gone,  he  finished 
his  story  for  my  benefit.  The  nigger  and 
the  Chinaman  stole  him  blind,  Bobby,  but 
they  certainly  did  make  him  comfortable 
while  they  were  doing  it. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      121 

"  They  would  do  anything — including  Bill. 
They  fell  over  each  other  to  wait  on  him. 
Then,  when  he  went  away,  they  fell  over 
each  other  running  for  loot.  John  worked 
harder,  but  Sam  was  smoother.  The  nigger 
generally  got  there  first,  but  the  Chinaman 
was  thorough,  when  he  did  arrive.  Bill  had 
the  finest  driving-horse  in  that  part  of  the 
country.  Sam  used  to  hitch  up  that  horse, 
the  moment  his  master's  back  was  turned, 
and  take  his  dusky  damsels  driving.  John 
went  one  better.  He  could  n't  get  the  horse 
as  often  as  Sam  did,  but  when  he  did  get 
him  he  took  the  horse  and  buckboard  out 
to  the  darkey  camp-meeting,  two  miles  from 
town,  and  hired  them  out  at  twenty-five 
cents  a  drive. 

"  He  was  thrifty,  that  Chinaman.  I  hope 
you  are  interested,  Bobby." 

"  Absorbingly  interested.  It  strikes  me 
that  for  once  in  a  way  a  man  is  starring 
and  you  are  only  leading  lady.  It 's  refresh 
ing.  Your  plays  are  n't  usually  cast  that 
way." 

"  Look  at  Bernhardt  in  '  Roxane ! '  I, 
too,  can  be  noble.  I  dare  say,  though,  that 
she  thinks  L'Aiglon  and  Hamlet  are  dramas 
greater  than  Cyrano. 


122     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  Well,  to  go  back  to  domestic  affairs  in 
the  shack.  Bill  finally  got  hot  and  fired  the 
whole  shooting-match.  That 's  the  way  he 
put  it. 

"  '  After  they  had  gone,'  he  said,  '  I  found 
there  was  n't  much  left.  I  had  n't  a  stitch 
of  clothes  except  what  I  chanced  to  be 
wearing.  It  was  big  luck  that  I  happened 
to  have  on  a  coat  that  day.  Still,  you  ought 
to  have  niggers  here.  These  gentlemen  with 
sky-blue  upper  lips  don't  know  the  game.' 

"  He  was  beautiful,  Bobby.  I  wanted  to 
buy  him,  so  that  I  could  take  him  out  and 
play  with  him  whenever  life  grew  dull.  One 
would  need  a  strong  box  for  him  between 
whiles,  though. 

"  I  smiled  on  him — my  very  best  smile." 

"  Poor,  lucky  beggar,"  commented  Bobby, 
paradoxically. 

"  I  urged  him  on.  I  Ve  never  seen  any 
thing  so  untrammelled,  so  sublimely  uncon 
scious  as  that  Texan.  He  had  n't  an  idea 
that  he  was  attracting  attention.  I  ex 
pected  him  to  make  breaks  about  the  din 
ner.  He  did  n't.  He  took  the  weird  French 
concoctions  as  calmly  as  if  his  darkey  and 
Chinaman  had  served  them  to  him  every  day 
down  in  the  Texan  shack.  There  was  n't 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      123 

even  a  touch  of  awkwardness  about  him. 
He  would  sit  down  at  a  royal  table  with 
cheerful  unconcern.  I  'm  sure  of  it. 

"It's  fine,  Bobby  —  that  vigorous,  direct 
manhood  that  looks,  clear-eyed,  at  life,  and 
sees  only  the  realities.  I  wonder  if  it  takes 
broad  horizons  and  broader  freedom  to  make 
such  men.  Do  we  raise  them  here,  between 
brick  walls  ?  " 

"We  breed  the  strength  and  the  sincerity 
here  sometimes  —  never  the  freedom,"  said 
the  man  who  came  often,  and  Nancy  missed 
the  smile  from  his  voice. 

There  were  times  when  the  Bobby  whom 
she  teased  suddenly  grew  up  and  made  her 
feel  very  young  and  foolish.  She  never  en 
couraged  the  pose,  but  in  her  heart  she 
liked  it.  The  normal  woman  will  look  up  to 
a  man,  even  if  she  has  to  sit  down  in  order 
to  do  it. 

Still,  being  a  woman,  Nancy  tacked,  and 
bore  away  from  seriousness. 

"  We  took  him  to  the  theatre,"  she  went 
on  lightly.  "He  kept  quiet  while  the  cur 
tain  was  up,  but  between  the  acts  he  enter 
tained  every  one  within  six  rows  of  us. 

"  He  did  n't  rave  over  the  star.  She 
could  n't  hold  a  candle  to  me  —  in  fact,  he 


124     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

had  n't  seen  any  one  who  could.  He  thought 
I  'd  like  Texas.  The  prettiest  girl  in  Wahoo 
had  miles  of  cow-ponies  hitched  in  front  of 
her  place  every  evening,  and  she  could  n't 
even  be  entered  in  the  same  class  with  me. 

"  Subtle,  was  n't  it  ?  And  yet,  Bobby, 
somehow  or  other  it  was  n't  banal  or  vulgar. 
He  said  I  was  pretty,  just  as  he  would  have 
said  that  grass  is  green  or  that  skies  are 
blue. 

"  I  knew  he  believed  what  he  said,  and, 
since  it  was  true,  he  could  n't  see  any  reason 
for  wrapping  it  round  with  subtleties.  The 
compliment  of  civilization  is  one  of  the  most 
perfect  exponents  of  decadence,  Bobby.  It 
is  a  concession  to  false  ideas  of  delicacy. 
It  says,  '  If  I  speak  directly,  she  will  know 
I  am  lying.  I  must  be  discreet.' 

"  A  direct  compliment  is  n't  vulgar  if  it  is 
genuine.  We  consider  all  direct  compli 
ments  vulgar..  You  can  draw  your  own 
conclusions." 

"  Nancy,"  said  the  man  who  came  often, 
speaking  with  slow  deliberation,  "you  have 
the  most  adorable  eyes  and  the  most  kiss- 
able  lips  I  ever  beheld.  I  '11  swear  to  it  be 
fore  a  notary.  Therefore  you  have  no  right 
to  resent  my  direct,  unvarnished  statement." 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY     125 

He  caught  a  cushion  dexterously,  and 
scored  one. 

"  Let  us  return  to  our  simple  and  guile 
less  friend  William,"  he  urged. 

"  Of  course  you  would  n't  understand 
him,"  said  Nancy  hotly.  "  He  would  have 
little  in  common  with  a  New  York  broker." 

"  But  I  gather  from  your  story  that  Wil 
liam  and  I  have  much  in  common,"  objected 
Bobby.  "  Our  opinion  of  your  eyes  and 
lips,  for  instance." 

"  He  did  n't  mention  my  eyes  or  lips." 

"  Then  he  is  n't  the  man  I  took  him  for. 
I  'm  afraid  this  new  friend  of  yours  merely 
goes  in  for  glittering  generalities.  A  man 
of  specialized  detail  is  the  man  to  tie  to, 
Nancy.  What  did  he  mention  ?" 

"He  told  me  about  Texas.  He  actually 
lowered  his  voice  to  do  it ;  and,  Bobby,  do 
you  know,  he  positively  made  me  homesick 
for  the  place.  He  could  make  one  feel  the 
sweep  and  the  breadth  and  the  freedom  of 
it — and  I  wanted  to  breathe. 

"  But  I  smoothed  my  Paris  frock  and 
played  with  my  lorgnette  chain,  and  tried 
to  remember  that  New  York  probably  wears 
better  than  Wahoo. 

"  He  was  born  twenty-seven  miles  from 


126     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

Wahoo,  Bobby.  Is  n't  that  awful  ?  To  be 
born  in  Wahoo  is  bad  enough,  though  I 
don't  know  anything  about  the  place,  except 
its  name. 

"  But  to  be  born  twenty-seven  miles  from 
Wahoo  !  That  opens  up  a  dismal  vista  of 
desolation  and  isolation.  We  left  him  in 
front  of  the  theatre.  He  held  my  hand 
quite  a  long  time." 

"  Did  n't  kiss  you  good-night  ?  "  inquired 
Bobby,  briskly. 

Nancy  flushed  angrily. 

"  He  certainly  did  not." 

"  Oh,  tut-tut.  A  Texan  and  afeared  ?  — 
and  he  so  simple  and  direct  in  his  methods, 
too  !  What  about  the  next  day  ?  " 

"  Well,  the  next  morning,  before  I  was 
up,  Mary  staggered  in  with  a  perfect  cart 
load  of  American  Beauties,  and  while  I  was 
dressing  a  five-pound  box  of  chocolates 
came." 

"  In  their  ultimate  form  of  expression  all 
methods  of  courtship  look  alike  to  me," 
mused  Bobby. 

"  Then,  just  as  I  was  breakfasting,  Bill 
was  announced.  He  came  out  and  watched 
me  drink  coffee.  He  wasn't  in  the  least 
embarrassed  by  finding  that  he  had  called 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      127 

before  breakfast.  He  had  been  up  for  five 
hours,  and  he  looked  preternatu rally  wide 
awake  ;  but  he  did  n't  talk  so  much  as  he 
did  the  night  before.  I  did  most  of  the 
talking." 

"  Probably  he  had  just  discovered  that 
your  innocent  prattle  has  its  good  points. 
Did  you  talk  to  him  about  other  men  ?  I 
have  a  taste  for  that  sort  of  thing — a 
carefully  cultivated  taste — but  some  men 
are  unreasonable  and  primitive  in  their 
tastes.  I  've  an  idea  your  Texan  would  n't 
enjoy  hearing  about  other  men." 

"  We  talked  about  —  well,  about  ideals 
and  things." 

Bobby  nodded  understandingly. 

"  Yes,  I  know  those  ideals." 

"He  has  the  most  beautiful  ideas  about 
woman." 

"  That  is  n't  indigenous  to  Texas,  Nancy. 
It 's  eternal  masculine.  It 's  a  feature  of  the 
universal  kingdom  of  youth." 

"  You  are  getting  old,  Bobby. 

"  I  have  ideas  about  a  woman  instead  of 
having  ideas  about  woman.  That 's  the 
only  difference." 

"  But  my  Texan  was  awfully  interesting," 
said  Nancy  hastily.  "  We  went  for  a  walk 


128     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

in  the  Park.  He  did  n't  like  it.  He  said  he 
would  butt  his  head  against  the  biggest  tree 
he  could  find  and  go  mad  if  that  were  all 
the  country  within  his  reach.  I  don't  think 
I  ever  saw  a  man  fret  against  things  before." 

"  We  do  our  fretting  inside  in  the  effete 
East." 

"No,  you  don't  fret  that  way.  You  are 
used  to  things." 

"  Men  are  never  used  to  things,  little  girl. 
Men  endure  things." 

Nancy  shook  her  head.  Women  seldom 
understand. 

"  We  went  riding  together  in  the  after 
noon.  He  borrowed  Mr.  Rollins'  saddle- 
horse,  but  he  was  n't  very  grateful.  He  said 
it  looked  well,  but  that  it  was  n't  bridle  wise, 
and  that  it  had  a  gait  like  a  tipsy  camel. 

"He  breathed  fire  when  I  would  n't  ride 
fast,  because  it  would  be  conspicuous  and 
the  police  would 'n't  approve,  and  he  thought 
the  men  and  women  on  trotting-horses  were 
horrors.  He  said  the  Lord's  original  plan 
kept  me  from  looking  foolish,  but  that  he  'd 
like  to  pick  me  up  and  carry  me  down  to 
the  ranch,  and  teach  me  to  ride. 

"  Shades  of  my  German  riding-master ! 
— and  I  was  a  star  pupil ! 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      129 

"  I  'd  like  to  ride  across  that  ranch, 
though,  Bobby — with  a  good  cow-pony  under 
me,  and  the  prairie  billowing  off  to  the 
horizon  line  on  every  side  of  me,  and  the 
birds  whirring  out  of  the  buffalo-grass  at 
my  feet — with  no  noise  but  the  thud  of  the 
horses'  hoofs  and  no  one  within  sight  but 
the  comrade  riding  with  me.  One  could 
get  away  from  shams  down  there,  Bobby, 
and  live — live  !  " 

Her  eyes  were  burning  and  her  cheeks 
were  aflame. 

"  Bless  her  dear  restless  heart ! "  said 
the  man  who  came  often,  and  knew  her. 
"  We  all  want  the  gallop  ;  but  the  sun  down 
there  is  intolerable,  and  the  grass  burns  up, 
and  there  's  not  a  tree  to  cast  a  shadow. 
The  life  is  rough,  and  the  food  is  coarse, 
and  the  days  are  long  and  lonely.  It 's  a 
big  heart  that  is  sufficient  to  itself,  little 
woman,  and  we  can't  always  be  galloping 
across  a  green  prairie  on  a  cool,  clear  day 
— not  even  if  one  lives  in  Texas." 

He  had  grown  up  again. 

Nancy's  eyes  were  wistful. 

"  I  know.  One  never  finds  it  anywhere 
— but  one  goes  on  wanting,  and  I  liked  the 
ring  of  my  Texan's  prairie  song." 


I3o     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

A  moment's  silence,  and  Nancy  continued  : 

"He  came  to  the  house  that  evening.  I 
went  down  to  see  him,  and  he  stayed  for 
half  an  hour.  I  don't  think  he  said  five 
words,  but  he  sat,  looking  me  straight  in 
the  face,  with  a  queer  doubt  growing  in  his 
eyes. 

"  I  did  n't  quite  understand.  I  was  hor 
ribly  nervous.  He  was  n't  like  any  one 
else.  I  could  n't  treat  him  as  I  treat  other 
men. 

"  Suddenly  he  got  up.  He  filled  the 
room,  Bobby.  He  did  n't  look  at  me  then, 
but  stared  at  an  absurd  Japanese  bronze  on 
the  table.  His  lips  were  set  in  a  straight 
line.  There  was  something  wrong  with  my 
breath,  Bobby.  A  foolish  thought  that  he 
looked  rather  like  the  head  waiter  and  '  Jack ' 
went  floating  through  my  head,  and  I  won 
dered  how  women  who  have  hysterics  feel. 

"  '  I  came  up  to  ask  you  for  something,' 
he  said,  '  but  I  was  a  fool.  I  '11  go  back  to 
Texas  to-night.  I  Ve  got  to  ride  it  off. 
Good-by.' 

"  He  did  n't  even  take  my  hand.  He 
bolted,  and  I  heard  the  door  slam.  Now  an 
Eastern  man — what  would  an  Eastern  man 
have  done,  Bobby  ?  " 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY     131 

"  Held  on  like  grim  death  and  waited," 
said  the  man  who  came  often. 

"  But  he  was  sensible  —  very  sensible. 
One  does  n't  buy  an  impressionist's  picture 
for  one's  living-room.  The  academicians 
wear  better,"  sighed  Nancy. 


A  LOVE  SOUVENIR 


133 


VII 
A  LOVE  SOUVENIR 

NANCY  left  town  early  one  season. 
Friends  were  going  to  White  Sulphur 
about  the  first  of  May,  and  she  decided  to 
go  with  them.  An  inflammatory  youth 
from  old  Virginia  was  also  moved  to  seek 
rural  shades  in  the  May  time.  No  man  of 
discretion  should  recklessly  expose  himself  to 
the  influence  of  springtime,  sylvan  rambles, 
and  pretty  girls.  The  combination  would 
have  been  too  strong  for  Zeno.  Even  a 
Vermont  man  would  be  in  danger  of  attack 
from  the  sentiment  microbe  under  such 
conditions,  and  as  for  a  Virginian — well,  his 
fate  was  a  foregone  conclusion. 

The  time  was  May.  The  place  was  White 
Sulphur,  and  the  loved  one  was  Nancy.  If 
it  had  n't  been  Nancy  it  would  have  been 
some  other  girl.  Given  the  time  and  place, 
the  loved  one  is  a  minor  detail.  That  phil 
osophical  fact  being  accepted,  the  amorous 
Virginian  should  be  glad  that  the  fates  filled 
out  his  unities  so  harmoniously,  and  that  he 

135 


136     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

had  so  good  a  run  for  his  money  ;  but,  at 
last  reports,  this  soothing  feature  of  the 
situation  did  n't  appeal  to  him,  and  Nancy 
considered  him  distinctly  ungrateful.  Per 
sonally,  the  young  woman  does  n't  approve 
of  Virginian  methods.  They  are  so  uncom 
fortably  sudden,  she  sadly  says.  Of  course, 
when  a  summer  flirtation  begins  with  May, 
one  can't  reasonably  expect  it  to  wear 
throughout  the  whole  season ;  but  there  's 
no  use  in  reckless  extravagance  and  in  doing 
the  thing  up  in  four  weeks.  They  do  these 
things  better  at  Bar  Harbor. 

The  young  Virginian  is  n't  really  the  hero 
of  this  tale,  but  his  springtime  susceptibility 
brought  about  the  events,  and  his  Danish 
Mastiff  did  the  rest.  The  dog  entered  upon 
the  scene  of  action  at  Richmond,  where  the 
Virginian  made  his  acquaintance  upon  the 
station  platform.  The  mastiff  was  an  over 
grown  and  vicious-looking  pup,  who  was 
stirring  things  up  for  the  baggage  agent  and 
the  dog  fancier  who  had  come  to  get  him. 
The  young  Virginian,  whose  pockets  are 
well  lined,  and  who  knows  a  thing  or  two 
about  dogs,  interfered,  and  the  obstreperous 
pup,  whose  name  was  Rex,  recognized  a 
congenial  spirit  and  took  to  the  stranger  in 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      137 

a  way  that  won  his  heart.  The  young  man 
turned  to  board  his  train.  The  pup  was 
determined  to  go  with  him,  and  once  more 
there  was  war  upon  the  station  platform. 
The  traveller,  being  in  a  melting  and  butter- 
hearted  mood,  attributable  to  the  season, 
was  touched  by  his  conquest  of  canine  affec 
tion.  He  looked  the  brute  over,  listened  to 
his  pedigree,  which  was  as  long  as  a  country 
parson's  sermon,  and  offered  the  perspiring 
and  irate  dog  fancier  $  1 50  for  the  dog.  The 
offer  was  promptly  accepted ;  and  in  five 
minutes  the  traveller  had  resumed  his  jour 
ney  to  White  Sulphur  with  an  affectionate 
but  rather  freakish  companion.  As  Nancy 
often  remarks,  "  These  Southern  men  are  so 
impulsive." 

Two  days  later  Rex  and  his  master  met 
Nancy.  That  was  the  beginning  of  the  end. 
The  master  approved  of  the  young  woman, 
the  dog  tolerated  her,  and  Nancy  adored — 
the  dog.  A  dog  is  a  useful  third  party  in 
affairs  of  this  kind.  He  affords  an  oppor 
tunity  for  a  display  of  guileless  and  ardent 
affection  that  is  an  effectual  promoter. 
Nancy  had  known  men  and  dogs  before. 

The  three  strolled  together,  sought  se 
cluded  nooks  together,  bayed  at  the  moon 


138     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

together.  Rex  had  to  be  sternly  repressed 
at  frequent  intervals,  but  he  was  devoted  to 
his  master,  who  had  clinched  his  devotion 
with  a  wholesome  fear  by  several  sound  and 
thorough  thrashings  after  acts  of  disobe 
dience.  So  the  dog  stuck  to  heel  and 
passed  chickens,  cats,  cows,  children,  and 
other  dogs  with  no  greater  evidence  of 
emotion  than  a  furtive  wriggle.  Moreover, 
he  sat  like  a  tranquil  lamb  with  Nancy's 
arm  around  his  neck  and  only  rolled  his 
eyes  pathetically  at  his  master  in  pained 
protest.  There  are  things  no  fellow  should 
ask  a  dog  to  do. 

So  things  went  for  four  weeks.  Then 
something  happened.  Rex  was  n't  respon 
sible  because  he  was  n't  along ;  but  there 
was  a  full  moon  and  a  rustic  seat,  and  Nancy 
went  to  her  room  at  1 1  o'clock  and  cried 
so  violently  that  she  could  n't  go  down  to 
breakfast  the  next  morning.  The  only  sat 
isfaction  her  alleged  chaperon  could  get  out 
of  her  was  the  statement,  between  sobs,  that 
men  were  horrid,  hateful,  unkind,  unreasona 
ble  things ;  but  a  chaperon  of  experience  can 
figure  out  a  good  deal  from  that.  In  the 
morning  a  note  was  handed  to  Nancy.  She 
cried  some  more. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      139 

"  I  am  going  on  the  midnight  train,"  wrote 
the  inflammatory  Virginian.  "  You  have 
spoiled  my  life  for  me,  but  it  is  a  satisfaction 
to  think  that  the  process  afforded  you 
amusement  for  four  weeks.  I  am  leaving 
Rex  for  you.  You  seemed  to  care  for  the' 
dog.  Perhaps  that  was  a  mere  seeming, 
too ;  but  I  could  not  bear  to  look  at  the 
brute  again, because  he  is  associated  with  you. 

"  Nasty  temper  these  Southern  men  have," 
said  Nancy,  wiping  her  eyes.  "  I  'd  hate  to 
marry  one  of  them.  Now  a  Northern  man 
would  have  said  it  was  all  his  fault,  and 
that  he  should  never  have  dared  to  dream 
that  I  could  love  him,  and  that  I  would  be 
a  sacred  memory,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
Don't  talk  to  me  about  Southern  chivalry. 
Give  me  Bar  Harbor." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  the 
dog  ?  "  asked  the  chaperon  practically. 

"  Oh,  he  '11  be  all  right,"  the  girl  said  care 
lessly.  "  Poor  fellow,"  she  added,  ambig 
uously,  dabbing  cologne  water  on  her  eyes 
and  sighing  deeply. 

"  It  looks  to  me,"  said  the  experienced 
and  suspicious  chaperon,  "  as  if  that  broken 
hearted  and  guileless  young  lover  were  in  a 
fair  way  toward  getting  even." 


i4o     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

Nancy's  income  is  n't  large,  at  best,  and 
hotel  expenses  had  been  playing  havoc  with 
a  bank  account  already  depleted  by  organdy 
frocks,  picture  hats,  and  other  ammunition. 
But  after  the  passing  of  the  Virginian  the 
financial  situation  became  tragic.  An  active, 
voracious,  and  bad  tempered  mastiff  at  a 
swell  hotel  is  a  proposition  that  calls  for  gold, 
yea,  for  much  fine  gold.  Nancy  found  that 
out  the  morning  after  the  storm,  when,  with 
suspiciously  pink  eyelids,  she  strolled  down 
to  the  stables  to  look  at  her  dog.  She  had 
had  some  idea  of  sitting  down  beside  the 
great,  clumsy,  forsaken  brute,  and  putting 
her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  dropping  a 
tear  upon  his  faithful  head,  for  remembrance 
sake.  The  sentiment  appealed  to  her,  and 
her  artistic  soul  suggested  that  she  and  the 
dog  would  make  rather  a  fetching  tableau. 
It  seemed  a  pity  that  the  stablemen  would 
be  the  only  spectators  ;  but  a  genuine  artist 
loves  art  for  art's  sake.  Still,  when  the 
young  woman  discovered  the  German  baron 
waiting  in  the  stable  door  for  a  mount,  she 
could  n't  help  feeling  that  Providence  was 
kind.  Unluckily,  the  programme  did  n't 
turn  out  exactly  as  planned.  Rex  had  no 
soul  for  art.  The  stablemen  had  made  him 


Nasty  temper  these  Southern  men  have,'  said  Nancy 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      141 

tired,  and  his  master  had  n't  turned  up,  and 
when  Nancy  appeared  and  ordered  him  un 
chained,  he  promptly  knocked  her  down  and 
jumped  on  her  in  playful  sport.  When  the 
baron  and  the  riding-master  pulled  him  off, 
the  radiant  vision  in  organdy  and  pink  roses 
looked  sadly  demoralized. 

That  night  Nancy  sat  down  and  did  sums. 
Then  she  went  to  the  office  and  changed 
her  second  floor  corner  room  for  a  small 
one  on  the  fourth  floor  back.  She  was  pay 
ing  for  a  box  stall  in  the  stables.  The  hotel 
was  charging  her  an  absurd  price  for  dog 
board.  One  of  the  grooms,  for  a  liberal 
consideration,  had  agreed  to  look  after  the 
dog's  general  comfort.  The  cook,  for  $i  a 
week,  would  keep  on  preparing  the  menu 
that  the  Virginian  had  laid  down  for  his 
dog  ;  and  Nancy's  own  waiter  thought,  under 
persuasion,  that  he  could  conscientiously 
promise  to  take  three  meals  a  day  out  to 
the  box  stall.  The  chaperon  grinned,  and 
Nancy's  compassion  for  the  lovelorn  Vir 
ginian  waned  ;  but,  as  she  said,  one  could  n't 
allow  an  innocent  dog  to  die,  just  because 
he  came  high. 

The  groom,  who  knew  a  good  deal  about 
dogs,  and  spoke  as  one  having  authority 


I42     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

said  that  the  pup  must  have  exercise  ;  so  Rex 
was  turned  loose  and  promptly  chewed  holes 
in  a  valuable  Italian  greyhound  belonging 
to  a  New  York  millionaier.  Only  Nancy's 
face  prevented  a  suit  for  damages. 

After  that  the  dog's  promenades  were 
taken  at  the  end  of  a  chain,  but  he  developed 
a  violent  dislike  for  the  groom  in  charge  and, 
in  fact,  for  every  one  on  the  premises,  except 
his  owner. 

She  bent  her  shoulders  to  the  burden  and 
began  taking  him  for  his  daily  walk. 

There  was  infinite  variety  in  the  perform 
ance.  Incidentally,  there  was  tremendous 
entertainment  for  the  other  inmates  of  the 
hotel. 

Occasionally,  a  slim,  pretty  girl  in  a  crisp 
gown  walked  calmly  past  the  hotel  verandah, 
leading  a  huge  and  tractable  dog.  Mote 
often,  the  morning  quiet  was  shivered  by  a 
sound  of  skurrying,  scampering,  barking, 
scolding,  protesting;  and  by  the  verandah 
swept  a  whirlwind  of  dust,  in  which  might  be 
vaguely  seen  an  immense,  straining,  strug 
gling  mastiff,  dragging  after  him,  at  chain 
length,  a  breathless,  red-faced,  stormy-eyed 
young  woman. 

The  apparition  shot  down  the  driveway 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      143 

and  vanished  on  the  road ;  and  there  was  a 
mighty  chuckling  on  the  verandah. 

At  the  end  of  a  quarter-mile,  Nancy 
usually  dropped  off  of  the  chain,  and  her 
amiable  love  souvenir  roamed  at  large 
through  the  country,  while  she  followed  in 
his  wake  thinking  desperately  of  her  respon 
sibility  and  of  the  rack  and  ruin  that  might 
be  laid  at  her  door. 

Rex  was  n't  really  vicious — playful  rather, 
but  his  idea  of  humorous  sport  did  n't  find 
favor  in  the  community.  He  chased  cats, 
chickens,  children,  horses,  cows,  with  impar 
tial  zest.  He  caused  one  runaway  after 
another,  and  on  one  occasion  ran  the  luck 
less  German  baron  into  a  swamp,  where  his 
horse  stuck  hard  and  fast.  But  dogs  were 
his  specialty.  He  was  spoiling  for  a  fight 
continually,  and  even  an  ignoble  conquest 
had  its  charm  for  him.  He  would  have  wel 
comed  a  foeman  worthy  of  his  steel,  but 
there  was  n't  a  dog  in  the  place  who  was 
more  than  half  his  size,  so  he  had  to  get 
what  amusement  he  could  out  of  smaller  fry. 
Most  of  the  dogs  at  the  hotel  and  cottages 
were  of  the  lap-dog  variety — delicate  little 
darlings  who  were  too  precious  to  be  left  at 
home  by  travellers.  King  Charles  spaniels, 


144     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

cocker  spaniels,  skye  terriers,  all  looked 
alike  to  Rex,  and  half  the  women  in  the 
hotel  froze  poor  Nancy  with  gorgon  glares 
and  talked  angrily  about  her  in  corners,  while 
the  men's  resentment  was  tempered  by  sym 
pathy. 

"  Why,  oh  why,"  wailed  Nancy  "  has  n't 
some  one  on  the  premises  a  pet  bulldog. 
Swells  to  burn  and  not  a  bulldog  among 
them.  It  would  n't  happen  once  in  a  thou 
sand  times." 

"  Indeed,  Miss,  you  '11  have  to  have  him 
shot,"  chorused  the  stablemen  and  the  hotel 
proprietor. 

"  If  she  had  any  sense  of  decency  she  'd 
have  the  nasty  brute  shot,"  snapped  the 
women. 

"  She  'd  better  have  him  shot  before  he 
kills  some  one,"  said  the  men. 

Nancy,  being  a  woman,  would  n't  listen  to 
the  suggestion  of  violerit  and  sudden  death. 
Rex  was  fond  of  her  in  spite  of  his  pranks, 
and  women  are  soft  hearted — about  brutes. 

"  Why  don't  you  send  him  away  ? "  in 
quired  kindly  men. 

"  Where  in  the  world  would  I  send  him  ? 
I  board  in  the  city,"  she  groaned. 

"  Well,  sell  him.     He 's  a  fine  fellow,  but 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      145 

you  could  afford  to  take  little  or  nothing  for 
him." 

"  Sell  him  ! "  with  desperate  scorn.  "  Don't 
you  suppose  I  've  had  every  man  in  the 
stables  trying  to  give  him  away.  I  'd  pay 
any  one  to  accept  him  as  a  gift." 

"Well,  then,  you  '11  have  to  have  him 
shot." 

It  always  came  back  to  that. 

The  thing  went  on  for  two  weeks.  Nancy 
was  becoming  thin  and  hollow-eyed,  and 
the  harmony  of  the  neighborhood  was  shat 
tered  into  bits.  Rex  was  finally  and  per 
manently  shut  in  his  box  stall.  One  Sunday 
morning  he  escaped.  Nancy  starting  to 
church  in  a  symphony  of  pearl  and  white 
heard  a  scuttle,  a  growl,  an  agonized  yelp. 
She  dropped  her  prayerbook  and  fled  around 
the  corner.  There  was  Rex.  There  in  his 
jaws  was  the  shivering,  hairless,  Mexican 
pet  of  a  wealthy  old  dowager.  There  was 
the  limp  but  frantic  dowager.  There  were 
the  cook,  three  waiters,  one  groom,  and  a 
crowd  of  minor  satellites.  The  Mexican  idol 
yelped,  the  dowager  screamed,  the  men 
yelled.  Nancy  plunged  into  the  fray  and 
broke  her  pearl-colored  parasol  over  her  dog's 
head.  He  never  noticed  it. 


i46     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  Save  him  !  Save  my  darling  ! "  shrieked 
the  dowager. 

"Kill  him.  Kill  the  brute,"  moaned 
Nancy. 

An  athletic  young  man  in  outing  flannels 
hove  in  sight  round  the  corner,  removed  his 
pipe  from  his  mouth,  and  stared.  Nancy 
looked  at  him  through  streaming  eyes. 

"  Kill  him  ! "  she  implored  tragically. 

He  slipped  the  pipe  into  his  pocket,  gave 
one  more  appreciative  glance  to  Nancy,  and 
picked  up  a  stick  of  firewood  that  lay  beside 
the  kitchen  steps.  A  moment  later  Rex  lay 
stretched  on  the  ground  stunned.  The 
dowager,  sobbing  hysterically,  gathered  up 
the  Mexican  fragments.  Nancy  limply  col 
lapsed  upon  the  curbstone.  The  young  man 
stood  beside  her  and  watched  the  dowager 
with  bewilderment  in  his  eyes. 

"  Why,  I  thought  the  little  beast  was 
yours,"  he  said  to  the  girl  at  his  feet. 

"  No,  the  big  beast  was  mine,"  she  mur 
mured  feebly. 

"  Oh  !  by  jove.  No  !  I — I  beg  your  par 
don,  I  really  did  n't — you  see  you  said  '  kill 
him/  and  you  looked  at  me,  and " 

She  looked  at  him  again. 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  did  n't  kill  him,"  she  said 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      147 

sadly.  Then  she  told  him  the  story  of  her 
life  since  the  arrival  of  the  dog,  suppressing 
various  details  whose  omissions  rather  spoiled 
the  story,  but  in  which  she  could  n't  expect 
the  young  man  to  be  interested.  He  was 
most  sympathetic. 

"  Why,  it  's  a  shame,  a  deuced  shame. 
What  were  all  the  men  doing  ? "  he  raged 
in  fine  indignation.  "  See  here,  Miss, 
Miss—" 

"  Reynolds,"  supplied  Nancy. 

"Ah,  yes,  thank  you.  See  here,  Miss 
Reynolds.  Let  me  buy  that  dog." 

She  dimpled  at  him  in  radiant  gratitude. 

"  Oh,  will  you  let  me  give  him  to  you  ?  " 
she  urged,  in  the  tone  of  one  who  sees  a 
great  light  in  darkness. 

He  went  to  the  office  and  sent  this  tele 
gram  to  his  business  partner : 

"  Look  out  for  dog  by  express.  Turn  him 
over  to  Smith's  trainer." 

That  afternoon  an  express  wagon  rattled 
down  the  hotel  drive  and  a  crowd  watched 
its  going.  In  it  was  an  immense  crate  and 
from  the  crate  floated  back  upon  the  wind 
the  despairing  howl  of  a  vanquished  and 
abused  mastiff. 

From  the  edge  of  the  woods  Nancy  saw 


i48     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

the  wagon  vanish  over  the  hill.  A  moment 
later  the  dog's  new  owner  joined  her. 

"  Well,  that  's  settled,"  he  said,  comfort 
ingly. 

"You  are  so  good."  The  tone  was 
dangerous.  The  glance  was  more  dangerous. 
"  Where  is  your  home  ?" 

The  question  was  irrelevant,  but  the 
champion  of  dames  answered  promptly  : 

"  New  York." 

"Ah,"  said  Nancy.  "I  'm  so  glad  you 
are  n't  from  Virginia." 


WHERE  FRIENDSHIP  CEASES 


149 


VIII 
WHERE  FRIENDSHIP  CEASES 

DOLLINS  and  Ormsby  are  not  on  good 
1  \  terms.  The  situation  is  complicated 
by  the  fact  that  the  two  men  are  joint 
owners  of  a  bachelor  apartment,  near  Wash 
ington  Square,  and  even  if  they  go  out  to 
meals  and  leave  their  cook  to  a  life  of  in 
glorious  ease,  they  are  fairly  sure  to  fall 
over  each  other  in  the  hall,  several  times  a 
day. 

The  obvious  moral  of  the  tale  seems  to 
be  that  no  Damon  and  Pythias  should  strain 
the  bonds  of  mutual  liking  to  the  point  of  liv 
ing  together.  The  Elysian  Fields  could  never 
live  up  to  their  reputation  if  the  Blessed 
were  expected  to  breakfast  in  company. 
Still  this  Washington  Square  apartment 
scheme  worked  beautifully  for  months. 
It  would  still  be  running  smoothly,  on  pneu 
matic  tires,  were  it  not  for  Nancy, — and 
though  that  young  woman  is  n  't  to  blame 
she  will  be  held  responsible  for  the  trouble. 
The  woman  is  always  held  responsible  for 
151 


152     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

the  trouble.  Adam  and  the  man  who  per 
petrated  " cherchez  la  femme"  have  estab 
lished  precedents  infinitely  soothing  to 
their  sex.  Nancy's  plea  of  not  guilty  would 
influence  no  masculine  jury ;  but,  in  point 
of  fact,  the  fates  and  the  telegraph  company 
worked  Rollins'  undoing. 

There  have  been  many  festive  dinners 
at  the  bachelor  apartment.  Rollins  and 
Ormsby  gave  them  together,  or  thought 
they  did.  In  reality,  Watkins,  the  English 
butler,  gave  the  dinners.  He  allowed  the 
other  two  men  to  invite  the  guests  but  re 
served  critical  rights  even  in  regard  to  that 
detail. 

The  dinners  did  Watkins  credit.  Wat- 
kins  did  not  feel  that  the  chosen  guests  in 
variably  reflected  credit  upon  the  hosts.  As 
he  once  remarked  to  a  sympathetic  cook, 
"  Young  men  will  be  young  men,  Mrs.  Rug- 
gles,  and  the  ladies  of  the  stage  I  can  under 
stand  ma'am,  but  them  literary  people ! " 
Rollins  himself  is  guilty  of  poetry  in  his 
irresponsible  moments  but  Watkins  over 
looks  that  —  "for  his  father  was  a  gentle 
man,  Mrs.  Ruggles,  and,  no  matter  what  goes 
wrong,  blood  will  tell." 

It  was  only  a  month  ago  that  Miss  Rey- 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      153 

nolds'  name  drifted  into  the  bachelor  apart 
ment  conversation.  Rollins  was  responsible 
for  its  debut.  Many  feminine  names  had 
dawned  and  faded  upon  the  apartment  hori 
zon,  and  in  Reynolds  alone  there  was 
nothing  portentous ;  but,  taken  in  conjunc 
tion  with  an  unwonted  anxiety  as  to  neck 
ties  and  a  forced  and  unnatural  blossoming 
of  sonnets,  the  name  was  alarming.  Ormsby 
became  interested. 

Rollins'  peculiar  uncommunicativeness  in 
creased  the  interest. 

Miss  Reynolds  was,  apparently,  the  only 
bona  fide  specimen  of  the  real  thing  in  the 
Boroughs  of  Manhattan  and  the  Bronx,  but 
Rollins'  air  suggested  that  she  was  put  away 
securely  in  a  time-lock  safe  of  which  he 
alone  knew  the  combination. 

When  the  respective  stars  of  Rose  and 
Margaret  and  Ruth  and  Gladys  and  their 
sisters  were  in  the  ascendant,  Rollins  had 
sung  the  young  women's  praises  early  and 
late ;  had  talked  of  the  loved  ones  ad 
nauseam  ;  had  taken  Ormsby  to  call,  so  that 
he  too  might  worship  and  adore. 

But,  until  a  week  before  the  peace  and 
harmony  of  the  apartment  were  rent  asun 
der,  Ormsby  did  n't  know  whether  Miss 


154     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

Reynolds  had  a  given  name.  He  had 
labored  for  weeks  before  finding  out  whether 
she  was  blonde  or  brunette.  Her  local 
habitation  was  a  sealed  book.  To  sugges 
tions  that  she  should  be  included  in  dinner 
invitations,  Rollins  was  deaf. 

Ormsby  concluded  that  the  matter  was. 
serious,  and  felt  flattered  by  the  logical  con 
clusion  that  Rollins  considered  him  danger 
ous.  He  even  studied  his  good-looking  face 
carefully  in  his  mirror,  and  decided  that 
Rollins  really  was  n't  such  an  ass  as  one 
might  think.  Then,  one  day  Ormsby's 
father  came  to  town.  Now  Ormsby's  father 
is  an  institution,  —  an  institution  for  which 
his  son  and  heir  entertains  a  profound  re 
spect.  The  amount  of  his  fortune  de 
mands  respect.  So  does  his  gout.  But,  as 
Ormsby,  junior,  often  says,  it  is  the  old 
gentleman's  vocabulary  as  adapted  to  his 
gouty  hours  that  commands  enthusiastic  ad 
miration.  It  would  win  humble  reverence 
from  a  cigar-store  Indian. 

When  Ormsby,  senior,  comes  to  town, 
Ormsby,  junior,  dances  to  strings  attached  to 
the  gouty  foot.  He  forsakes  everything 
and  cleaves  to  the  governor.  In  direct  pro 
portion  to  the  closeness  of  his  cleaving  so 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      155 

does  the  size  of  the  check  which  he  will 
receive  at  parting  grow  and  increase. 

Rollins  usually  protests  against  the  pater 
nal  visitations.  Having  a  tailor  of  his  own, 
he  recognizes  the  exigences  of  the  situa 
tion,  but  he  objects  to  being  deprived  of  his 
chum's  society.  However,  when  on  this 
particular  occasion  a  dispatch  announced  to 
Ormsby  that  his  father  would  spend  the 
week  in  New  York,  Rollins  bore  up  like  a 
hero.  He  even  seemed  to  take  on  new 
cheerfulness. 

"  The  old  gentleman  will  get  in  to-morrow 
afternoon  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  said  Ormsby. 

"  Then  of  course  you  '11  have  to  dine  with 
him  to-morrow  evening  ? " 

"Sure  thing." 

They  separated  for  the  day. 

The  next  morning,  at  the  breakfast  table, 
Rollins  mentioned  casually  that  he  expected 
a  young  married  couple  of  their  acquaintance 
to  dine  with  him  in  the  evening. 

"  Sorry  you  can't  be  here,  old  chap,"  he 
added  genially. 

Ordinarily  Ormsby  leaves  his  office  at 
four  o'clock,  but  that  afternoon,  as  luck 
and  the  typewriter  would  have  it,  he  was 


156     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

shockingly  delayed.  He  had  promised  to 
join  his  father  at  the  hotel  at  six  o'clock.  At 
six-forty-five  he  rushed  home  to  dress,  re 
flecting  gloomily  the  while  that  the  governor 
was  probably  making  the  air  around  him 
violently  ultramarine  and  preparing  for  the 
prodigal  son  a  variety  of  veal  that  would  be 
swallowed  with  difficulty. 

In  the  hall  he  met  Watkins.  There  were 
no  signs  of  prospective  festivity  in  the 
dining-room. 

"  Where  's  the  dinner  party  ?  "  he  asked, 
as  he  jammed  pearl  studs  into  a  dress  shirt. 

"The  cook  left  at  noon,"  said  Watkins, 
with  the  solemn  joy  of  one  who  announces 
dire  calamity. 

"  The  deuce  she  did  !  Then  the  dinner  's 
off?" 

"  Mr.  Rollins  telegraphed  to  the  guests, 
sir." 

"Where's  Rollins?" 

"  He  's  gone  to  get  the  young  lady  who 
was  coming,  sir.  He  's  going  to  take  her  to 
dinner  and  to  the  theatre." 

"  Young  lady  !  why  he  did  n't  say  —  who 
was  she,  Watkins  ?  " 

"  I  could  n't  say,  sir.  Mr.  Rollins  did  n't 
mention  the  name." 


"  Mr.   Rollins  lives  here  ?  " 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      157 

Ormsby  was  struggling  with  his  tie.  He 
dropped  the  conversation,  also  several  ex 
pressions  more  forcible  than  Christian  in 
regard  to  the  man  who  first  invented  neck 
ties. 

The  door-bell  rang. 

Watkins  disappeared. 

Ormsby,  picking  up  his  overcoat  and  look 
ing  around  hopelessly  for  his  opera  hat,  heard 
a  soft  feminine  voice  saying  : 

"  Mr.  Rollins  lives  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  miss,"  came  in  Watkins'  best  com 
pany  accents,  "  but  he  is  n't  in  at  present, 
miss." 

"  Not  in!" 

There  was  a  note  of  embarrassment  and 
a  whole  gamut  of  surprise  in  the  echo. 

"  No,  miss.  He  's  gone  out  to  dinner  and 
the  theatre." 

"  But  you  are  entertaining  at  dinner  this 
evening  ?  " 

The  embarrassment  had  deepened.  The 
surprise  had  melted  into  consternation. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  miss,  but  the  cook  left, 
unexpected  like,  at  noon,  and  Mr.  Rollins 
had  to  telegraph  the  guests  not  to  come." 

There  was  a  gasp,  distinctly  audible  in 
Ormsby's  room. 


158     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

He  drew  aside  the  curtain  and  stepped 
into  the  hall.  Watkins  obliterated  himself. 
A  Vision  in  a  soft,  shimmering  pink  gown 
and  hood  and  a  long  cloak  of  lace  and  fur 
stood  in  the  doorway.  Her  head  was  held 
very  high.  Her  cheeks  were  uncommonly 
pink.  The  gray  eyes  that  met  Ormsby's 
were  half  indignant,  half  amused,  wholly 
beautiful. 

Ormsby  did  n't  know  her.  He  felt  con 
vinced,  at  once,  that  not  knowing  her  had 
been  a  bit  of  beastly  bad  luck. 

"  I  have  come  to  dinner,"  said  the  Vision 
firmly,  but  with  a  lurking  dimple  threatening 
to  dash  into  the  open. 

"  You  did  n't  get  a  dispatch  from  Dick  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  The  chiffon  hood 
slipped  back,  disclosing  a  distracting  arrange 
ment  of  golden  fluffiness  rippling  into  gold 
brown  shadow. 

"  I  was  invited  to  dine  here  at  seven,"  she 
said.  "  Your  man  tells  me  the  cook  is  gone. 
Did  you,  by  any  chance,  save  the  chaperon  ? " 

Ormsby's  attention  was  gliding  giddily 
over  the  ripples  but  he  tried  to  pull  himself 
into  coherence. 

"  I  suppose  the  other  people  got  their 
telegrams.  Nobody  's  here.  I  don't  under- 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      159 

stand.  Dick  has  gone  to  —  I  suppose  — 
he  did  n't  tell  — "  He  was  stammering 
joyously  and  inwardly  cursing  himself  for 
a  blundering  fool.  This  was  Dick's  break. 
There  was  no  reason  why  he  should  be 
embarrassed. 

"  I  think  you  must  be  Mr.  Ormsby,"  said 
the  Vision.  "  My  name  is  Nancy  Rey 
nolds." 

A  great  light  broke  upon  Ormsby 's  brain, 
and  an  unholy  joy  took  possession  of  his 
soul. 

So  this  was  Rollins'  little  game  !  Verily, 
the  gods  were  good. 

"  It  is  awfully  unfortunate,"  he  said  feel 
ingly.  "  There  has  been  some  mistake 
about  the  telegram.  He  will  be  dreadfully 
cut  up." 

He  did  n't  mention  that  Rollins  was,  at 
that  moment,  on  his  way  to  take  the  young 
woman  to  dinner  and  to  the  theatre.  Why 
go  into  details  ? 

"I  've  sent  away  my  cab.  Really  you 
know,  it  is  all  rather  provoking." 

The  Vision  was  evidently  irritated.  As 
evidently,  her  sense  of  humor  was  wrestling 
with  her  wrath.  Moreover,  if  gray  eyes 
are  to  be  believed,  she  did  not  consider 


160     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

it  necessary  to  visit  her  anger  upon  the  in 
nocent  friend  of  the  guilty  Rollins. 

Ormsby  looked  at  the  eyes,  and  threw  his 
chum  overboard  without  a  shadow  of  com 
punction.  After  all,  Rollins  had  n't  played 
fair. 

"  I  will  telephone  for  a  cab,  but  you 
must  n't  stand  here  in  the  hall.  Wont  you 
come  in  and  wait  ?  " 

She  hesitated,  then  followed  him  down 
the  narrow  hall  to  the  drawing-room. 

"  Perhaps  the  imposing  person  who  opened 
the  door  for  me  can  chaperon  us,"  she  said, 
with  a  touch  of  embarrassment.  "  I  'm 
afraid  it  is  all  distinctly  unconventional. 
Bachelor  apartments  and  a  strange  young 
man  and  no  chaperon  within  seventy  blocks. 
Will  you  please  tell  the  cabman  to  hurry  ?  " 

Ormsby  obeyed  orders.  It  comforted  his 
soul  to  realize  that  New  York  cabmen  are 
impervious  to  such  orders. 

After  telephoning  he  sat  down  across  the 
room  from  Nancy  and  gave  himself  up  to 
the  joy  of  it.  For  the  first  time  he  realized 
just  why  he  and  Rollins  had  put  silvery 
green  paper  on  the  wall.  It  was  in  order 
that  a  slender  figure  in  rosy  pink  and  a 
crown  of  red  gold  hair  might  glow  and  flame 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      161 

against  a  green  background.  Incidentally, 
he  reflected  that  he  had  been  altogether 
wrong  when  he  guyed  Rollins  about  buying 
that  impossible  old  oak  chair.  Of  course  it 
did  look  more  or  less  like  a  stage  throne, 
but  when  there  is  a  chance  of  entertaining  a 
queen —  Only  he  wished  she  would  n't 
stroke  that  carved  griffin  on  the  chair  arm, 
and  that  that  other  grinning  beast  would  n't 
lay  his  head  against  her  soft  white  shoulder. 
Some  way  or  other  it  seemed  so  d d  im 
pertinent  and  familiar.  There  is  the  mak 
ings  of  a  first-rate  Turk  in  Ormsby.  He 
did  n't  mention  his  feeling  about  the  grif 
fins.  On  the  contrary,  he  talked  of  "  shoes 
and  ships  and  sealing-wax "  with  laudable 
gravity.  Ormsby  is  a  gentleman,  if  his 
tendencies  are  Turkish.  Still,  in  his  heart, 
he  was  glad  that  he  had  had  the  forethought 
to  telephone  to  63d  Street  for  a  cab,  instead 
of  ordering  one  around  the  corner.  A  young 
woman  could  n't  be  expected  to  know  any 
thing  about  the  telephone  numbers  of  cab 
stables,  even  when  she  heard  them  called. 
Occasionally  a  mental  picture  of  a  gouty  old 
gentleman  in  a  hotel  room  arose  and  smote 
the  old  gentleman's  son  with  horror,  but  the 
awesome  vision  died  away  in  a  glow  of  rose 


i6z     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

pink  and  red  gold.  One's  readiness  to  pay 
the  piper  depends  upon  the  quality  of  the 
dance. 

"  It 's  a  terrible  grind  on  Dick,"  said  Dick's 
chum,  with  fine  relish.  Nancy  looked  pa 
thetic.  When  Nancy  drifts  into  gentle 
pathos,  men  who  know  her  will  reach  for 
life-preservers,  but  Ormsby  did  not  know 
her. 

"  My  sympathy  is  all  for  myself,"  she  said. 
"  Of  course  this  is  all  very  charming,"  she 
added,  with  a  glance  that  neutralized  the 
chill  into  which  her  first  remark  had  cast 
Ormsby  and  raised  his  temperature  to  fever 
heat,  "  but — but  it  really  is  embarrassing 
and — "  she  blushed.  Bobby  always  says 
that  the  blush  is  more  fatal  than  the  pathos. 

She  looked  at  Ormsby  doubtfully.  Then 
with  a  little  outburst  of  friendly  confidence, 
leaned  toward  him.  "  It 's  worse  than  em 
barrassing,"  she  said  ;  "  it  's  tragic  !  My 
mother  has  gone  out  for  dinner,  and  she 
told  both  maids  they  might  go  and  stay 
until  nine  o'clock." 

Ormsby  arose  to  the  occasion.  He  be 
lieved  he  had  evolved  a  glittering  idea  with 
out  assistance.  Bobby  would  have  known 
better.  Ormsby's  guardian  angel  clutched 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      163 

at  his  shoulder,  but  Ormsby  shook  him  off. 
A  gout-inspired  torrent  of  paternal  opinion 
clamored  in  his  ears  but  could  not  daunt  him. 

"  I  wish — "  he  began,  then  paused  to  take 
breath,  and  went  on  with  a  rush  : 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  me  take  you  to 
dinner.  I  have  n't  had  mine  and  I  'd  have 
to  dine  alone.  (Shade  of  the  waiting  gov 
ernor  !)  It 's  such  forlorn  work  dining  alone. 
I  'd  be  so  awfully  pleased  if  you  would  go 
with  me." 

It  was  out.  He  looked  at  her  appre 
hensively.  The  pink  gown  and  hood  and 
the  stunning  fur  cloak  that  had  slipped  from 
her  shoulders  all  seemed  appallingly  Philis 
tine  and  conventional. 

Nancy  was  surprised.  Any  one  could 
have  seen  that.  She  was  also  shocked — not 
discouragingly  shocked,  however.  The 
shading  was  masterly.  She  looked  at  him 
with  her  pretty  head  a  trifle  tipped  to  one 
side.  Evidently  tradition  and  inclination 
were  struggling  within  her.  If  Ormsby 
could  have  remembered  a  prayer  he  would 
have  said  it.  He  did  start  in  on  one,  but 
he  did  n't  know  the  rest  of  it,  and,  anyway, 
it  did  n't  seem  to  fit  the  case. 

"  I  'm  afraid,"  said  the  Vision  doubtfully 


164     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

(Nancy's  manner  is  always  most  doubtful 
when  her  decision  is  most  firmly  made), 
"  I  'm  afraid  it  would  be  very  improper." 

If  only  a  fear,  not  a  conviction  barred  the 
way,  Ormsby  was  ready  to  fight  for  his 
heart's  desire. 

"Oh,  no;  it — "  he  began  hotly,  but 
Nancy  interrupted  him. 

"  It  is  n't  at  all  the  thing  to  dine  without 
a  chaperon,  at  a  restaurant.  Some  one  I 
know  would  surely  be  there,  and  these 
things " — she  glanced  down  at  the  pink 
gown  and  the  gorgeous  cloak — "  are  rather 
conspicuous." 

While  there  was  hesitancy  there  was  hope. 
Ormsby  plunged  into  the  breach. 

"  But  I  know  a  very,  very  quiet  little 
place,  near  here.  You  'd  never  meet  any  of 
your  friends  there.  It 's  ghastly  respectable 
and  nobody  there  would  notice  anything  one 
wore."  The  last  two  statements  did  not 
tally.  The  soul  of  respectability  is  criticism  ; 
but  the  Vision  apparently  did  n't  notice  the 
flaw  in  the  argument. 

"  If  you  are  quite  sure — "  she  began. 

"  Positive,"  swore  Ormsby,  and  his  guar 
dian  angel  spread  his  wings  and  fled 
weeping. 


"  I  'm  afraid  it  would  be  very  improper" 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      165 

As  the  young  couple  were  leaving  the 
apartment,  the  telephone  bell  rang  furi 
ously.  Ormsby  went  back  to  the  drawing- 
room,  closing  the  door  into  the  hall  carefully 
behind  him.  Intuition  is  a  wonderful  and 
valuable  thing. 

When  he  took  up  the  receiver,  a  grin 
spread  across  his  countenance  and  bade  fair 
to  meet  at  the  back  of  his  head. 

"Oh!  That  you,  Dick?"  he  said,  in 
honeyed  tones,  carefully  lowered. 

"  What  ?  Oh,  yes,  she  came  down  here. 
Did  n't  get  your  telegram.  Yes  ;  it  was 
awkward  ;  was  n't  it  ?  I  understand  how  you 
feel.  Yes  ;  I  was  at  home.  Lucky,  was  n't 
it  ? — merest  accident. 

"  You  thought  there  might  have  been 
some  mistake  about  the  telegram  ?  Chance 
she  might  have  come  here  ?  So  clever  of 
you,  dear  boy.  If  I  had  your  brain,  Rol 
lins,  I  would  n't  write  poetry  with  it. 

"Offended?  Oh,  not  seriously.  She's 
still  here.  .  .  .  No,  not  waiting  for  you. 
Don't  kill  a  horse,  dear  boy.  She  and  I  are 
just  going  out  to  dinner.  .  .  . 

"  Fie,  fie,  Richard  !  Such  langwidge !  So 
long,  old  man." 

He  rang  off. 


166     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  A  business  matter,"  he  explained  to  the 
Vision  when  he  joined  her. 

They  started  once  more.  Again  the  tele 
phone  rang  viciously. 

"  That,"  said  Ormsby  with  an  air  of  con 
viction,  "is  the  governor." 

"  Are  n't  you  going  back  ?  "  asked  Nancy. 

"  No ;  Watkins  can  attend  to  it,"  said 
Ormsby  calmly. 

He  breathed  an  inward  prayer  that  the  old 
gentleman  might  not  convict  him  of  murder 
by  expiring  in  a  fit  of  apoplectic  rage,  and 
hurried  the  Vision  down  to  the  63d  Street 
cab.  Later,  he  paid  the  piper. 

The  governor  left  no  check. 

Rollins  does  not  speak. 

But  Ormsby  swears  that  the  dance  was 
well  worth  the  price. 


A  TOUCH-DOWN 


IX 

A  TOUCH-DOWN 

THAT,"  said  Nancy,  "  was  the  summer 
when  I  had  only  one  proposal." 

The  man  who  came  often  looked  from 
the  glowing  fire  to  the  glowing  face. 

"  Why  did  you  go  to  a  place  where  there 
was  only  one  man  ?  "  he  inquired  drowsily. 

Nancy  twinkled  appreciatively.  There  is  a 
distinct  satisfaction  in  throwing  bouquets  to 
Nancy.  She  is  an  uncommonly  good  catcher, 
and  artistic  curves  are  never  wasted  upon  her. 

"  Bobby,"  she  said,  with  an  admiration 
slightly  exaggerated,  "  no  one  could  have 
done  better,  at  such  short  notice.  You  are 
improving,  but  you  must  be  very  careful. 
If  you  keep  on  this  way  you  '11  be  getting 
subtle,  and  that  would  n't  match  your  mouth 
and  shoulders." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  meditative  tilt 
of  her  fluffy  head.  He  was  still  blinking 
sleepily  from  the  effect  of  the  open  fire. 

Nancy's  face  cleared. 
169 


i7o     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  It 's  mediumistic,"  she  asserted,  with  the 
triumphant  air  of  one  who  solves  a  puzzling 
problem.  "  I  Ve  noticed  that  your  finest 
efforts  always  occur  when  you  are  in  the 
trance  state.  Bobby,  your  control  is  a 
scholar  and  a  gentleman.  I  make  him  my 
compliments.  I  'd  like  to  meet  him  in  the 
flesh.  Tell  him  I  'm  sorry  he  passed  out 
before  I  had  a  chance  at  him." 

"  My  control  is  feminine,"  said  Bobby, 
with  wide-awake  emphasis. 

Nancy  shook  her  head. 

"  No.  The  quality  of  your  trance  com 
pliments  would  suggest  that.  They  are 
better  than  the  ordinary  masculine  effort, 
but  I  suppose  that  is  because  they  are 
purely  subjective.  One  thing  is  sure,  Bobby. 
No  feminine  control,  no  matter  how  far  be 
hind  she  had  left  her  objectivity,  would 
allow  you  to  make  the  compliments  to 
another  woman.  It 's  against  nature." 

The  man  who  came  often  forsook  the 
big  leather  chair  and  stood  before  the  fire. 
He  loomed  preternaturally  big  and  broad- 
shouldered,  outlined  against  the  glow,  in 
the  gathering  twilight,  and  the  small  bundle 
of  femininity  looked  up  at  him  with  a  whim 
sical  mixture  of  approval  and  protest. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      171 

"  Would  you  mind  sitting  down  again  ?  " 
she  asked  pathetically.  "  Someway  or  other 
you  look  so  monumental  and  I  feel  like 
such  an  atom.  I  don't  like  it.  It  disturbs 
my  sense  of  values.  I  can't  be  disrespectful 
to  you  when  you  are  up  there.  I  'd  as  soon 
think  of  being  impertinent  to  the  Pyramids. 
I  can  overlook  mental  and  moral  qualities, 
but  sheer  size  awes  me.  That 's  why  I  hate 
going  to  the  mountains.  They  snuff  me 
out.  I  can't  frivol  before  them.  Six  months 
in  the  mountains  would  reduce  me  to  abject 
cringing  humility.  Do  sit  down,  Bobby." 

Bobby  subsided  into  the  leather  chair. 
He  could  see  Nancy's  face  better  from  there, 
which  may  have  accounted  for  his  docility. 

"  But  about  that  summer?"  he  asked. 

Nancy  sighed. 

"  I  struggled  against  mountains  and  Aunt 
Maria  that  summer.  I  might  have  defied 
the  mountains.  They  were  n't  very  big 
ones, — but  Aunt  Maria !  Mt.  Blanc  is  a 
molehill  beside  Aunt  Maria." 

"  She  is  rather  a  whale,"  assented  Bobby, 
cheerfully. 

"  It  is  n't  her  avoirdupois,"  Nancy  said 
grimly.  "  She  does  weigh  two  hundred 
pounds,  but  that  's  a  mere  bagatelle. 


172     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

It  's  her  moral  force  that  towers,  Bobby. 
'  Whale  ! ' — why,  Aunt  Maria  would  make 
the  leviathan  look  like  a  minnow.  You  'd 
understand  what  I  mean  if  she  had  ever 
chaperoned  you." 

"  She  left  no  room  on  the  mountains  for 
men?" 

"  Exactly.  There  were  men — oodles  of 
them ;  but  Aunt  Maria  obscured  the  view. 
I  might  as  well  have  been  in  a  nunnery. 
Now,  I  approve  of  chaperons,  in  a  way." 

"  Well,  they  are  generally  in  the  way," 
murmured  Bobby ;  but  Nancy  ignored  the 
interruption. 

"  Chaperons  have  their  uses,"  she  went  on. 
"  So  have  the  commandments.  One  must 
have  something  to  break.  One  must  have 
some  one  to  elude." 

"  On  the  same  principle  one  feels  an  un 
dying  gratitude  to  guide-posts,"  said  Bobby. 
"  They  make  it  possible  for  one  to  choose 
the  wrong  road  beyond  shadow  of  a  doubt. 
Are  you  so  truly  good,  little  woman,  that 
you  have  to  say  things  like  that  in  order  to 
ward  off  danger  of  immediate  translation  ?  " 

He  was  smiling,  but  something  in  his 
tone  made  Nancy  blush.  There  are  times 
when  the  big  quiet  man  with  the  honest 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      173 

eyes  makes  her  feel  that  she  has  been  guilty 
of  a  crime  against  good  taste.  It  is  n't  a 
comfortable  sensation,  and  it  moves  her  to 
detest  Bobby  cordially.  At  least  she  tells 
herself  that  it  does. 

This  time  there  was  no  ground  for  open 
resentment,  so  she  overlooked  the  criticism 
implied. 

"  Speaking  of  chaperons — "  she  began. 

"  But  I  was  speaking  of  guide-posts,"  ob 
jected  Bobby. 

"  It 's  quite  the  same  thing,"  Nancy  in 
sisted  airily.  "  Both  persist  in  pointing  out 
places  to  which  they've  never  been.  The 
giddier  a  chaperon  has  been,  the  more  stren 
uous  she  is.  The  only  really  liberal  chaperon 
I  ever  had  was  dear  old  Aunt  Elizabeth,  who 
was  such  a  saint  herself  that  she  was  tremen 
dously  optimistic  about  other  people.  Now 
they  do  say  that  Aunt  Maria  was  a  terror 
before  she  took  on  so  much  of  the  flesh  that 
she  could  n't  travel  fast  enough  to  keep  up 
with  the  world  and  the  devil ;  but,  as  a  chap 
eron  " 

Nancy's  pause  was  full  of  emphasis. 

"  I  should  think  it  would  be  easy  to  lose 
her,"  Bobby  suggested.  "  She  's  too  large  a 
body  to  move  rapidly." 


174      THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

Nancy's  expression  was  tragic. 

"  You  don't  know  her.  She  's  a  contra 
diction  of  natural  law.  I  used  to  believe 
that  no  one  body  could  be  in  two  places  at 
one  and  the  same  time.  That 's  a  mistake. 
Aunt  Maria  can  do  it.  I  suppose  it's  be 
cause  there  is  so  much  of  her.  With  fifty 
more  pounds  she  would  probably  be  ubiqui 
tous.  She  chaperoned  me  only  one  summer. 
One  was  enough.  I  did  n't  choose  her,  even 
then.  She  offered  herself  up  as  a  sacrifice 
to  family  welfare.  You  see,  Reginald  Cart- 
wright  had  devoted  himself  to  me  for  three 
months.  The  family  dreamed  dreams  and 
saw  visions.  I  Ve  a  very  hopeful  family, 
Bobby.  Nothing  really  discourages  them. 
Each  season  they  forget  last  season's  crush 
ing  blows,  and  plan  the  furnishings  for  my 
town  house  and  the  arrangement  of  the  state 
rooms  on  my  yacht.  Hope  springs  eternal 
in  the  parental  breast.  Aunt  Maria  believes 
in  the  town  house  and  the  yacht,  but  she 
is  n't  patient.  She  approved  of  Reggy.  He 
had  to  go  to  Homburg  with  his  mother  in 
June.  Aunt  Maria  was  convinced  that  if  I 
did  n't  fly  off  at  a  tangent  before  he  could  re 
turn  in  September,  we  could  launch  the  yacht 
before  Christmas.  So  she  chaperoned  me. 


Aunt  Maria    .     .     .     has  the  endurance  of  the  early  martyrs 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      175 

"  That  was  a  great  summer,  Bobby.  Aunt 
Maria  won  my  undying  hatred  and  my  ar 
dent  admiration.  She  was  noble.  She  has 
the  endurance  of  the  early  martyrs.  Fatty 
degeneration  of  the  heart  is  what  one  has 
when  one's  heart  swells  abnormally,  is  n't  it  ?" 

Bobby  sighed. 

"  There  are  other  names  for  it,"  he  said 
impressively,  but  ruined  the  effect  by  join 
ing  in  Nancy's  derisive  grin. 

"  Aunt  Maria  has  fatty  degeneration  of 
the  conscience,"  the  young  woman  an 
nounced  positively.  "  She  must  have  been 
uncommonly  bad  to  be  forced  into  such 
unnatural  goodness  now." 

"  Did  she  have  a  happy  summer  ?  "  Bobby 
asked  doubtfully. 

Nancy  twinkled. 

"  I  did  my  best  for  her.  She  wanted  to 
reduce.  I  gave  her  the  chance  of  a  life 
time.  I  did  n't  stay  in  one  place  for  five 
consecutive  minutes.  I  wore  myself  to 
shreds.  Tire  Aunt  Maria  ?  Not  a  bit  of 
it.  She  never  left  me  except  when  I  was 
asleep  and,  I  dare  say,  she  sal;  outside  my 
door  then. 

"  It  was  maddening  at  first,  later  on  it 
grew  funny.  Men  came  and  men  went,  but 


176     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

Aunt  Maria  went  on  forever.  Every  one 
was  absorbingly  interested.  We  were  one 
of  the  attractions  of  the  place.  If  the  hotel- 
keeper  had  had  any  soul,  he  would  have 
lowered  our  rates  and  given  us  a  com 
mission  on  entertainment.  Guests  used  to 
say  at  breakfast  :  '  Well,  what  shall  we  do 
this  morning, — drive,  or  row,  or  fish,  or 
watch  the  chaperon  ? ' 

"  When  a  new  guest  arrived,  they  showed 
him  the  bottomless  lake  and  Baldhead 
mountain  and — Aunt  Maria.  Every  man 
who  came  set  a  lance  at  rest  against  her. 

"  It  was  n't  that  I  was  attractive.  The 
venturesome  masculine  spirit  merely  longed 
for  conquest.  It  was  like  one  of  the  nice 
old  tales  of  chivalry  and  magic.  One  knight 
after  another  besieged  the  enchanted  castle 
and  fought  the  dragon.  The  plain  was 
strewn  with  dead  men's  bones,  Bobby. 

"  In  a  way,  I  was  more  popular  than  ever 
before,  but  I  could  n't  be  vain  over  it.  I 
understood  that  not  my  personal  charm, 
but  a  desire  to  do  up  the  dragon  was  what 
made  men  cry  for  me.  Whenever  a  new 
man  buckled  on  his  armor,  betting  ran  high. 
Everybody  watched  with  undisguised  glee. 

"  Teddy   Winslow    was    so    excited   one 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      177 

morning  when  he  thought  his  college  chum 
was  going  to  make  a  touch-down  that  he 
let  off  a  Yale  yell  and  spoiled  the  whole 
thing." 

"How  did  you  behave?"  asked  Bobby, 
suspiciously. 

"  Like  a  cherub.  There  was  no  use  in 
rebelling  ;  and,  after  all,  Aunt  Maria  was 
my  aunt,  you  know,  and  I  would  n't  enter 
the  lists  against  her.  I  remained  neutral. 
I  was  a  shuttlecock ;  I  did  n't  care  what  the 
battledores  did  with  me.  If  a  man  could 
score,  by  sheer  Machiavellian  strategy  or 
heroism,  I  would  n't  lay  a  straw  in  his  way  ; 
but  I  developed  a  positive  pride  in  Aunt 
Maria.  I  would  n't,  for  worlds,  have  inter 
fered  with  one  of  her  strategic  moves.  I  really 
sympathized  with  her  in  her  one  defeat." 

"  Who  was  the  man  ?  "  Bobby  inquired. 
He  always  shows  a  flattering  interest  in  the 
heroes  of  Nancy's  stories.  She  seldom 
gratifies  it,  save  when  the  joke  is  on  her. 

"  You  don't  know  him,  Bobby.  He  was 
a  Western  man,  with  a  Harvard- Heidelberg 
lacquer — a  really  beautiful  being — the  sort 
of  a  man  who  always  hears  '  Hail !  the  con 
quering  hero  comes '  playing  inside  of  his 
head,  and  keeps  step  to  it. 


178     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"He  came,  he  saw,  he  conquered — Aunt 
Maria.  He  had  only  two  weeks,  and  it  took 
him  three  days  to  appreciate  the  situation. 
Then  the  blood  of  fighting  ancestors  rose. 
He  's  a  relative  of  Farragut.  He  quoted 
'  Damn  the  torpedoes  ! '  and  steamed  ahead. 

"  Aunt  Maria  complimented  him  by  taking 
a  particular  dislike  to  him. 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  about  Argus  !  He  was 
a  stone-blind  deaf-mute  compared  with  my 
guardian. 

"The  Western  man  and  I  golfed  all  day 
long.  Aunt  Maria  carried  a  large  green 
umbrella  and  a  look  of  stolid  endurance, 
and  trudged  over  the  links  with  me.  She 
said  she  would  n't  interfere  with  my  pleas 
ures,  but  she  knew  her  duty. 

"  I  might  have  had  an  occasional  t£te-a-t$te 
if  I  had  danced,  but  the  doctor  had  for 
bidden  dancing  that  summer. 

"You  would  n't  believe  that  a  man  and  a 
girl  could  be  in  the  same  hotel  for  two 
weeks  and  never  have  five  minutes  alone. 
Now  would  you,  Bobby?  The  thing  can 
happen.  Ten  days  went  by  —  eleven  — 
twelve. 

"  Teddy  told  me  that  the  Western  man  had 
bet  him  one  hundred  dollars  to  fifty  that  he 


Jimmy,  my  favorite  caddy 


179 

would  propose  to  me  before  leaving.  Teddy 
wanted  me  to  think  of  some  little  token  of 
appreciation  that  he  could  buy  with  ten 
dollars  of  the  hundred  and  present  to  Aunt 
Maria. 

"  The  afternoon  of  the  twelfth  day,  we 
were  all  sitting  on  the  terrace  and  one  of  the 
gardeners  killed  a  garter  snake  on  the  lawn 
below  us.  Aunt  Maria  turned  green.  Some 
body  ran  for  water,  and  somebody  else 
offered  smelling  salts,  and  I  patted  her  on 
the  back.  She  revived,  after  a  while,  and 
apologized,  —  said  she  was  dreadfully 
ashamed,  but  that  she  had  always  felt  that 
way  about  snakes.  She  was  n't  afraid  of 
anything  else  in  the  world,  but  the  very 
sight  of  a  snake  terrified  her  beyond  words 
and  robbed  her  of  every  vestige  of  self- 
control. 

"  Then  we  talked  of  other  things,  but 
Aunt  Maria  was  still  pale,  and  I  noticed 
that  the  Western  man  seemed  quiet  and 
thoughtful.  After  a  while  he  got  up  and 
strolled  off  toward  the  golf  grounds,  and, 
when  we  went  for  a  drive,  a  little  later, 
I  saw  him  sitting  on  a  bunker  and  talking 
to  Jimmy,  my  favorite  caddy. 

"  The  next  morning,  Jimmy  was  n't  wait- 


i8o     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

ing  for  me  as  usual.  I  did  n't  see  him  all 
day,  and  I  missed  him.  I  adored  Jimmy. 
He  was  fourteen  years  old,  and  had  more 
freckles  to  a  square  inch  of  face  than  any 
other  mortal  I  Ve  ever  seen.  There  was  n't 
room  for  many  of  them  on  his  nose,  for  it 
was  small  and  turned  up  in  the  most  im 
pertinent  fashion,  but  they  spread  over  his 
forehead  and  cheeks  and  neck  and  ran  down 
in  a  deep  V  over  his  chest,  where  the  two 
top  shirt  buttons  were  always  missing.  He 
had  a  shock  of  red  hair,  home-cut,  and  he 
wore  a  scarlet  golf  cap  with  a  big  hole  in 
the  crown  through  which  a  tuft  of  red  hair 
waved  wildly. 

"His  eyelashes  and  eyebrows  were  per 
fectly  white.  He  was  thin  beyond  all  be 
lief,  and  his  bare  legs  and  arms  looked  like 
pipe-stems,  but  his  mouth  turned  up  at  the 
corners  in  a  most  delightful  way,  and  his 
eyes  were  the  funniest,  frankest,  sauciest 
eyes  ever  put  into  a  boy's  head.  I  wanted 
to  buy  Jimmy.  If  Aunt  Maria  had,  for  a 
moment,  suspected  my  real  feeling  for  him, 
she  would  n't  have  had  a  restful  moment. 

"  That  was  a  long  day  without  Jimmy." 

"  And  the  Western  man  ? "  added  Bobby. 

Nancy  looked  hurt. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      181 

"  I  was  n't  interested  in  him.  Still  one 
could  n't  help  wondering  what  had  become 
of  him,  and  why  he  had  thrown  up  the  fight 
just  before  the  finish.  Teddy  said  he  had 
decided  to  send  to  Boston  for  fruit  for 
Aunt  Maria.  She  loves  fruit  and  the  hotel- 
keeper  seemed  prejudiced  against  it. 

"  At  dinner,  the  Western  man  appeared, 
immaculate  and  in  beaming  good-humor.  I 
never  saw  a  man  less  depressed  by  defeat. 
He  did  look  a  trifle  tired,  but  he  explained 
that  he  had  been  off  for  a  long  tramp. 
Jimmy  had  been  showing  him  the  country. 
He  did  n't  try  very  hard  to  be  with  me.  Evi 
dently  he  had  given  in  to  the  dragon  and 
intended  accepting  defeat  like  a  gentleman. 
Aunt  Maria  was  so  gratified  that  she  thawed 
to  him.  I  saw  her  offer  him  her  throat 
lozenges  twice,  and  she  smiled  all  evening. 

"Just  before  we  went  up-stairs,  he  asked 
me  quite  cheerfully  if  I  would  golf  with  him 
the  next  morning.  '  I  have  to  go  at  noon,' 
he  said.  Aunt  Maria  almost  looked  sorry 
for  him." 

"  Aunt  Maria  should  read  more  history," 
commented  Bobby. 

"  She  has  a  big  steel  engraving  of  '  Wash 
ington  Crossing  the  Delaware,'  hanging 


i82     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

over  her  bed,"  said  Nancy  ;  "  but  she  was  n't 
expecting  a  surprise  in  this  siege.  She  was 
downstairs  with  her  green  umbrella  when  I 
went  to  breakfast  the  next  morning.  She 
and  the  Western  man  and  I  tripped  mer 
rily  to  the  links.  Jimmy  joined  us  there. 
Three  buttons  were  gone  from  his  shirt, 
instead  of  the  usual  two.  His  legs  had  a 
few  extra  scratches,  and  one  trousers  leg 
was  damaged  beyond  repair,  but  his  eyes 
were  dancing  to  rag-time.  I  wish  you 
knew  Jimmy.  He's  very  lovable." 

"  I  '11  look  him  up  and  study  his  meth 
ods,"  said  the  man  who  came  often. 

"  It  is  n't  method.  It 's  personality," 
explained  Nancy,  discouragingly.  "  We 
started  out  for  the  first  hole, — the  man 
and  I  in  front,  Aunt  Maria  a  close  sec 
ond,  and,  Jimmy  ranging  far  afield.  The 
man  was  most  cheerful.  I  felt  rather  hurt 
by  it.  The  occasion  was  a  melancholy 
one, — last  day,  last  game,  parting  at  noon. 
No  man  with  a  taste  for  high  art  would  have 
grinned  like  a  Cheshire  cat  around  fifteen 
holes  of  a  golf  course. 

"  After  the  fourteenth  drive,  Jimmy  de 
veloped  a  new  propensity.  He  simply 
wouldn't  go  on  ahead  and  watch  the  ball. 


"Aunt  Maria  a  close  second  " 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      183 

He  hung  behind,  and  dawdled  around  and 
showed  an  unnatural  love  for  Aunt  Maria's 
company  and  conversation.  The  man  did  n't 
seem  to  notice  it,  and  when  I  complained, 
he  only  laughed  and  said  Jimmy  was  a 
queer  little  cuss  and  fond  of  having  his  own 
way.  Evidently  nothing  could  disturb  the 
creature's  good-nature. 

"  The  fifteenth  hole  is  the  one  farthest 
from  the  hotel,  quite  out  of  sight  of  the 
veranda  and  terrace.  It  is  in  a  little  patch 
of  meadow-ground,  with  the  woods  on  one 
side  of  it  and  a  low  stone  fence  between  it 
and  the  hill  sloping  up  toward  the  hotel. 

"  We  approached  and  dropped  both  balls 
on  the  green.  I  took  my  putter  and  Jimmy 
went  back  to  Aunt  Maria  instead  of  stand 
ing  by  the  hole. 

"  I  glanced  at  him  as  he  moved  away  and 
caught  him  giving  the  Western  man  one  long 
solemn  wink.  I  noticed,  too,  that  he  was 
fumbling  at  the  strap  of  the  pocket  in  the 
caddy-bag.  I  had  put  my  clubs  in  the  man's 
bag  so  that  one  caddy  could  carry  for  both 
of  us. 

"  I  gripped  my  putter  and  sized  up  the 
hole.  Suddenly  I  heard  a  shriek  behind  me, 
and  whirled  around.  For  one  instant  I  saw 


i84     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

Aunt  Maria  stand  petrified  by  terror.  A  big 
blacksnake  was  writhing  at  her  feet  and 
Jimmy  was  hitting  at  it  heroically  with  a 
cleek.  There  was  another  wild  shriek. 
Aunt  Maria  discovered  her  legs.  So  did 
we.  She  grabbed  her  skirts  firmly  on  both 
sides  and  hoisted  them  with  a  fine  disregard 
of  conventional  prejudice.  Then  she  started 
for  the  hotel.  You  would  never  believe  she 
could  strike  such  a  pace,  Bobby.  It  was 
phenomenal.  Her  white  stockings  simply 
twinkled  over  the  green.  The  umbrella  was 
abandoned  at  the  start.  Her  hat  went  at 
the  end  of  the  first  ten-rod  dash.  She 
cleared  the  stone  fence  like  a  bird  and  flew 
on  up  the  hill,  letting  off  diminuendo  shrieks 
as  her  breath  gradually  gave  out.  Jimmy 
ran  after  her,  yelling  as  though  the  snake 
were  in  hot  pursuit.  They  disappeared  over 
the  brow  of  the  hill.  My  chaperon  had 
altogether  failed  me.  I  was  left  to  my 
fate." 

Nancy  paused. 

Bobby  made  no  remark. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Nancy,  reflectively,  after 
a  rich  silence, — "  I  suppose  a  Western  man 
never  loses  his  fine  direct  simplicity  and  as 
surance,  even  when  Harvard  and  Heidel- 


"  With  a  fine  disregard  of  conventional  prejudice' 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      185 

berg  have  done  their  worst  for  him.  On 
the  whole,  I  believe  I  like  it.  It  seems  to 
relieve  one  of  all  responsibility  in  dealing 
with  him.  Now,  a  man  born  to  Harvard  or 
Heidelberg  might  make  the  fatal  mistake  of 
asking  permission  on  starting  discussion." 

Bobby's  under  jaw  suggested  bad  temper. 
Nancy's  funny  stories  often  affect  him  that 
way.  She  has  reduced  it  to  a  science. 

"  Of  course  he  proposed  ?  " 

Nancy  smiled  sweetly. 

"  Oh  yes,  indeed, — very  nicely.  It  would 
have  been  a  pity  to  miss  it.  I  did  n't  accept 
him.  I  had  a  mighty  longing  to  do  it,  just 
in  order  to  see  how  severe  a  shock  western 
nerve  would  stand,  but  I  feared  complica 
tions.  We  went  back  to  the  hotel  most 
amicably.  Jimmy  met  us  on  the  steps.  His 
grin  was  a  thing  to  conjure  with. 

"  '  D'  je  put  in  ? '  he  asked. 

"  The  Western  man  laughed. 

"'It  was  Miss  Reynolds's  hole,  Jimmy,' 
he  said. 

"  He  went  away  on  the  noon  coach.  Aunt 
Maria  came  down  to  see  him  off  and  found 
him  so  radiant  that  she  lapsed  into  murky 
gloom,  but  she  cheered  up  after  Teddy  led 
her  aside  and  told  her  that  the  enemy  had 


186     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

proposed  and  been  refused.  Teddy  was  in 
a  position  to  know.  Still,  after  a  talk  with 
Jimmy,  his  spirits  soared  superior  to  his 
misfortune.  He  even  confided  to  me  that 
he  'd  have  given  another  fifty  to  see  the 
blacksnake  loft  Aunt  Maria  over  the  fence." 

"  Where 's  Cartwright  now  ?  "  Bobby  asked 
irrelevantly. 

"  Married.  He  fell  a  victim  to  an  English 
widow  just  when  Aunt  Maria  was  in  the 
thick  of  the  fray.  Pathetic,  was  n't  it  ?  " 

"  No  one  keeps  you  for  me  when  I  'm 
away."  Bobby's  tone  suggested  distinct 
sulkiness.  "  I  suppose  you  had  all  sorts  of 
proposals  while  you  were  south  this  winter." 

"  Eleven,"  Nancy  announced  promptly. 
"  Horrid  awkward  number,  was  n't  it  ?  I 
could  n't  make  it  twelve  without  encoura 
ging  the  elevator  boy's  hopeless  passion. 
Still  the  season  is  n't  over  yet,  and  — 

"Call  it 'twelve,  Nancy." 

Bobby  was  smiling  again,  but  his  eyes 
were  in  earnest. 

Nancy's  little  air  of  gratitude  was  touching. 

"  Now  that 's  sweet  of  you,"  she  said  effu 
sively  ;  "  I  '11  feel  so  much  more  comfortable 
about  the  record,  but,  Bobby  — "  She 
leaned  toward  him  confidentially.  Her  lips 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      187 

and  dimples  were  mocking,  but  there  was  a 
soft  little  light  in  her  eyes.  Bobby  often 
wondered  whether  she  looked  at  the  other 
men  so  when  she  refused  them. 

"  Bobby,"  said  the  laughing  lips,  "  you 
are  very  generous  and  very  brave ;  does  it 
ever  strike  you  that  you  are  also  very  rash  ?  " 


A  SUMMER  TOUR  IN  BOHEMIA 


189 


X 

A  SUMMER  TOUR  IN  BOHEMIA 

"  A  POET  ?"  said  Bobby  in  tones  of  deep 
*»  disgust.  "Really,  Nancy,  I  think 
you  might  draw  the  line  somewhere." 

"  Speaking  of  lines,"  Nancy  went  on  cheer 
fully,  "  there  was  also  an  artist." 

"  Good  Lord  !  "  groaned  Bobby. 

"  Incidentally,  there  was  a  sculptor  and  a 
man  who  wrote  problem  stories." 

"  And  I  Ve  been  abroad  only  two 
months." 

"It  was  your  going  abroad  that  did  it, 
Bobby.  It  wakened  a  longing  for  travel. 
I  could  n't  go  to  Europe.  We  were  too 
poor  even  to  go  to  the  country.  That  Wall 
Street  fracas  complicated  our  summer  plans 
dreadfully.  I  said  to  myself,  '  I  really  must 
travel,  but  it  must  be  a  journey  without 
money  and  without  price.'  Then  I  shut 
myself  in  my  room  and  concentrated  my 
mind  upon  a  purple  iris  in  a  glass  vase.  (By 
the  way,  Bobby,  there  has  also  been  a  yogi, 
191 


192     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

but  that 's  quite  another  story.)  Did  you 
ever  concentrate  your  mind  on  a  purple  iris 
in  a  glass  vase  ?  " 

Bobby  shook  his  head  emphatically. 

"Well,  of  course,  I  really  ought  to  choose 
something  yellow,  but  I  prefer  purple.  I 
get  just  as  many  ideas  when  I  meditate 
upon  purple,  and  the  ideas  are  much  livelier. 
After  I  had  put  in  about  fifteen  minutes  on 
the  iris,  I  said,  'Go  to.  I  will  travel  in 
Bohemia.'  I  got  my  tickets  from  Mrs. 
Wallace.  I  was  to  be  personally  conducted. 
When  Mrs.  Wallace  couldn't  do  the  con 
ducting,  she  was  to  provide  a  substitute ; 
but  I  did  n't  bother  her  much  about  substi 
tutes.  I  furnished  them  myself.  Do  you 
know  Mrs.  Wallace  ?" 

Bobby  did  n't. 

"  What  does  Wallace  do  ?"  he  asked. 

"He  stays  at  home." 

"What  does  Mrs.  Wallace  do?" 

"  She  travels  in  Bohemia." 

Bobby  sat  up  very  straight 

"  Now,  Nancy,  see  here." 

"  But  she 's  all  right,  Bobby.  She  was  a 
Schuyler,  but  she  has  a  taste  for  bear  lead 
ing.  She  does  n't  have  to  live  in  Bohemia, 
but  she  worships  at  the  shrine  of  genius. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      193 

She  has  at  least  one  rabid  enthusiasm  each 
fortnight." 

"  You  seem  to  have  hit  her  pace,"  said 
Bobby  rather  grimly. 

"  Exactly ;  only  I  doubled  up.  Sometimes 
I  drove  my  enthusiasms  tandem.  You  see 
my  time  was  short." 

"Why?" 

Nancy  blushed  ;  and  when  Nancy  blushes, 
she  is  adorable.  Then  she  looked  embar 
rassed.  Bobby  knows  she  never  is  embar 
rassed,  but  he  always  finds  the  exhibition 
entertaining. 

"Well,  I  knew  that  after  August  I  could  n't 
be  happy  outside  the  Philistine  camp,"  the 
young  woman  said  vaguely. 

Bobby  returned  the  last  day  of  August. 

It  was  too  transparent.  He  laughed,  so 
did  Nancy. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,"  he  said,  taking  out 
his  cigar  case.  Bobby  always  smokes  cigars, 
and  good  ones.  Even  the  most  casual  ob 
server  would  never  expect  him  to  be  guilty 
of  a  cigarette. 

Nancy  put  an  ash-tray  at  his  elbow,  and 
offered  him  a  sofa  cushion. 

"  It  will  probably  make  you  very  tired," 
she  said  sweetly,  and  he  took  the  cushion. 


i94     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  Mrs.  Wallace  gave  a  dinner,"  Nancy 
began. 

"  A  good  dinner  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  That 's  not  Bohemia." 

"  No  ;  but  it  introduced  me  to  Bohemians. 
They  did  the  rest.  I  Ve  been  where  verses 
and  hair  and  vin  ordinaire  flowed  like  water, 
Bobby ;  but  that  came  later.  Mrs.  Wallace's 
wines  are  distinctly  Philistine." 

"  Where  was  Wallace  ?  " 

"  He  had  an  important  business  engage 
ment  at  his  club." 

"  My  heart  warms  toward  Wallace,"  mur 
mured  the  man  who  came  often. 

"  I  went  out  to  dinner  with  Mrs.  Wallace's 
latest  enthusiasm.  Was  n't  that  noble  of 
her,  Bobby  ?  He  's  a  poet,  and  she  had  told 
me  that  he  was  the  most  fascinating  being 
she  had  ever  known.  She  said  he  was  like 
the  angel  Israfel,  whose  heart-strings  were 
a  lute." 

"  I  '11  bet  you  made  the  lute  play  rag-time," 
said  Bobby. 

"  Not  at  all.  You  evidently  don't  know 
Bohemia.  There  are  n't  any  Ten  Com 
mandments  in  Bohemia.  There  is  only  one  ; 
but  that  one  is,  '  Thou  shalt  not  drop  thy 


The  man  who  came  often  " 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      195 

pose.'  It 's  fairly  inspiring,  Bobby,  to  see 
how  devoutly  they  follow  that  one  law.  Is- 
rafel  might  covet  his  neighbor's  wife  and 
run  amuck  through  the  Decalogue,  but  never, 
never  would  he  play  rag-time.  It 's  this  way. 
Everybody  in  Bohemia  falls  in  love  early 
and  often,  but  no  good  Bohemian  ever  for 
gets  himself  in  loving.  An  egoist  rampant 
on  a  field  purple.  There  you  have  Bo 
hemia's  coat  of  arms." 

"  But  he  did  tune  his  lute  to  sing  thy 
praise  ?  "  urged  Bobby. 

Nancy  smiled. 

"  He  wrote  twenty-six  sonnets  to  me." 

"  Suffering  Moses  ! " 

"  I  Ve  never  been  called  out  of  my  name 
as  I  was  in  those  sonnets,  Bobby.  My  worst 
enemy  would  n't  have  recognized  me.  Now, 
Bobby,  tell  me  seriously.  Do  you  think  I 
have  a  sinuous,  serpentine  smile  ?  " 

Bobby  grinned. 

"  And  would  you  like  to  be  a  pomegranate 
flower  and  a  marble  sphinx  and  an  old-world 
melody,  all  in  fourteen  lines  ?  " 

"  Well,  it 's  a  good  thing  to  hurry  through 
a  stunt  like  that,"  suggested  Bobby  con 
solingly. 

"  He  found  out  before  we  were  half  through 


196     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

the  soup  that  my  nearness  troubled  him 
strangely.  He  asked  if  I  ever  felt  a  haunt 
ing  premonition  of  approaching  pain.  I 
told  him  I  seldom  felt  that  until  after  the 
salad.  Then  we  talked  about  the  Gospel 
of  Pain.  Don't  ask  me  what  it  is,  Bobby. 
I  don't  know ;  but  it 's  very  beautiful.  I 
almost  wept  over  it  during  the  entree. 

"  We  had  Maeterlinck  with  the  salad. 
No ;  it  is  n't  a  cheese.  It 's  a  man  who 
writes  prose  that  makes  one  yearn,  and 
plays  that  make  one  squirm.  Either  pro 
cess  is  a  delirium  of  exquisite  pain.  The 
poet  said  so.  Would  you  rather  yearn  or 
squirm,  if  you  had  your  choice,  Bobby  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  Ve  ever  squirmed,  and 
we  don't  yearn  in  Philistia.  We  just  want 
things." 

For  no  apparent  reason  Nancy  blushed. 
Then  she  returned  hastily  to  her  poet. 

"  We  reached  Swinburne  by  dessert  time. 
You  see  the  agony  of  protest  ended  with 
Maeterlinck  and  salad.  With  the  nessel- 
rode  and  Swinburne  we  resigned  ourselves 
to  indigestion,  physical  and  moral.  On  the 
whole,  I  think  I  liked  it  better.  It 's  more 
restful.  Still  I  did  n't  like  sanguine  grapes 
of  sorrow,  and  purple  blood  of  pain,  and 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      197 

dead  sheaves,  and  ruined  fruit,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing  with  nesselrode.  It  seemed  so 
messy.  I  bore  up  for  a  while,  and  then  I 
asked  him  if  he  had  n't  a  nice  clean  little 
Felicia  Hemans  bit  of  verse,  by  way  of 
cordial. 

"  He  was  n't  offended.  He  smiled  a  beau 
tiful,  wistful,  far-off  smile,  and  said  that  a 
star-eyed,  dewy-souled  child  like  me  could 
not  be  expected  to  find  in  her  heart  an  echo 
to  the  sob  of  world  agony. 

"  It  made  me  feel  very  young,  Bobby. 
He  looked  at  me  across  a  great  gulf  of 
years  and  experience,  and  yearned  for  the 
snows  of  yester-year.  Anybody  could  see 
him  yearn.  There  was  no  mistaking  the  fact 
that,  personally,  he  had  been  steeped  in 
sobbing  agony.  It  was  very  impressive.  It 
was  calculated  to  make  any  girl  long  to  be  a 
healing  spirit.  I  quite  understood  why  wo 
men  called  him  fascinating. 

"  Bobby,  why  do  women  find  an  unsavory 
masculine  record  interesting  ?  " 

"  They  don't,"  said  the  man  who  came 
often.  "  At  least  good  women  don't.  It  is 
the  hurt  of  the  record  that  interests  them, 
the*  possibility  of  healing.  It  is  romantic, 
foolish.  Men  trade  on  the  folly.  But  when 


198     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

good  women  stop  yearning  over  worthless 
men,  God  help  the  world  !  " 

They  were  silent  for  a  moment.  Then 
Nancy  put  out  a  slim  little  hand  and  patted 
his  pillow.  There  were  times  when  she  was 
distinctly  fond  of  Bobby.  He  apparently 
did  not  notice  the  friendly  hand.  He  had 
learned  to  know  Nancy. 

"  And  with  the  coffee  ?"  he  asked. 

"  We  had  coffee  in  the  drawing-room. 
The  artist  was  served  with  it.  He  was  n't 
really  as  beautiful  as  the  poet,  but  then  he 
is  very  young.  He  is  a  symbolist.  No  ;  I 
don't  know  what  it  is.  That  's  just  it.  If 
any  one  knew  what  it  is,  it  would  n't  be. 
The  ineffably  subtle  is  what  my  artist  is 
after.  He  told  me  so  at  once,  so  that  I 
would  n't  nurse  any  vain  hope  of  satisfying 
his  quest.  But  then,  a  little  later,  he  de 
cided  that  my  smile  had  the  subtlety  of  a 
Da  Vinci  smile.  That 's  because  it  is  sinu 
ously  serpentine,  I  suppose.  I  'm  going  to 
suppress  that  smile,  Bobby.  I  don't  believe 
it  is  fit  for  publication." 

The  smile  was  noting  over  the  piquant 
face  —  a  gay,  wholesome,  infectious  smile. 
Bobby  watched  it  with  indications  of  ap 
proval. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      199 

"  A  smile  is  in  the  eyes  of  the  observer," 
he  remarked,  sententiously.  "  Don't  rob 
the  general  public  because  a  few  Bohemians 
have  astigmatisms." 

"It  was  the  next  night  after  that  dinner 
that  I  really  set  sail  for  Bohemia,"  Nancy 
went  on.  "  Mrs.  Wallace  went  with  me. 
The  man  who  writes  problem  novels  took 
us." 

"  Was  he  beautiful,  too  ?  "  Bobby  inquired, 
with  fine  scorn  in  his  tone. 

"  Bobby,  he  was  lovely.  He  looked  like 
a  cross  between  an  oatmeal  advertisement 
and  a  spanked  cherub.  You  never  saw  any 
thing  so  round  and  rosy  and  innocuous  and 
serious.  Psychological !  Why,  my  yogi 
was  n't  a  circumstance  to  him.  Anything 
one  says  sets  him  off,  and  if  one  keeps  still, 
the  silence  sets  him  off.  He  says  silence  is 
so  full  of  question  that  it  drives  him  mad — 
that  he  can  endure  very  little  of  it  at  a  time. 
And  he  looks  like  a  mild,  benignant  full 
moon  when  he  says  it. 

"  We  went  to  a  table  d'Mte  place  way 
uptown.  It  is  the  last  refuge  of  the  chosen 
few,  the  last  stronghold  of  Bohemia.  The 
artist  begged  me,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  not 
to  tell  any  one  about  it. 


200     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

"  '  As  soon  as  it  is  known,'  he  said,  '  the 
crowd  will  rush  in  and  spoil  it,  as  they  have 
spoiled  our  other  haunts/ 

"  Is  n't  it  pathetic,  Bobby,  to  be  so  great 
that  the  vulgar  horde  follows  one  and  hangs 
upon  one's  words  and  gestures  ?  There  's 
something  positively  epic  about  that  retreat 
of  the  Bohemians.  It  reminds  me  of  all 
sorts  of  things  in  history,  only  I  can't  think 
what  they  are.  Driven  back  from  one  rocky 
fastness  to  another." 

"  Rocky  they  are,"  agreed  Bobby. 

"  Don't  interrupt  me  when  I  am  seeing 
noble  visions,  Bobby.  Making  one  stand 
after  another,  only  to  be  pursued  and  routed. 
Why,  it 's  like  Homer,  or  Poland,  or  the 
Boer  War,  or  the  Tenderloin. 

"  I  suggested  to  the  artist  that  he  ought 
to  make  a  picture  of  the  devoted  band  plant 
ing  their  standard  on  the  Harlem  height — 
sort  of  a  Custer's  Last  Rally  group,  you 
know.  He  did  n't  think  it  would  be  sym 
bolic.  He  was  afraid  it  would  tell  a  story, 
and  no  one  who  paints  a  picture  that  tells  a 
story  can  be  saved. 

"  It  's  a  very  nice  little  place,  this  refuge 
of  the  elect.  There  's  a  garden  and  a  long 
grape  arbor  and  a  delightful  French  patron. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      201 

He  would  make  an  excellent  Bloomingdale 
warden.  He  believes  in  humoring  them, 
ces  gens  la.  He  told  me  so.  He  confided 
in  me.  It  was  my  hopeless  Philistinism  that 
moved  him  to  it,  I  suppose.  He  said  he  had 
already  known  cette  esptce  in  the  Quartier 
Latin,  so  he  understood  them. 

" '  Us  sont  des  braves  garcons,  mademoi 
selle,  mais  un  peu — vous  savez,  un  peu ' 

"  I  saveyed. 

"  '  C'est  tou jours  comme  93  avec  les  vers 
et  les  tableaux.  Us  rendent  un  peu  drole. 
Mais  avec  de  cceur  !  Mais  oui,  mademoiselle. 
Ah,  si  on  pouvait  acheter  des  poulets  avec 
de  coeur ! ' 

"  It  would  be  jolly,  would  n't  it,  Bobby,  if 
one  could  buy  chickens  with  good-will  in  any 
of  the  world's  markets  ?  " 

"  It  has  been  done,"  said  Bobby. 

"  Oh,  no,  it  has  n't.  Some  men  think  they 
are  doing  it,  but  they  always  pay  in  some 
thing  else,  sooner  or  later — pay  to  the  last 
farthing." 

"  How  many  were  eating  the  chickens  on 
this  particular  night  ?  " 

"  About  fifteen,  I  fancy — mostly  men.  I 
met  them  all.  It  was  quite  a  little  family — 
sort  of  a  mutual  relief  association.  Every- 


202     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

body  was  allowed  to  talk  about  himself  for 
a  certain  length  of  time,  provided  he  'd  give 
the  other  man  a  chance  to  talk  about  him 
self  for  the  same  length  of  time.  Recipro 
city  is  a  great  thing,  Bobby.  I  've  never 
seen  men  and  women  so  frankly  and  absorb 
ingly  interested  in  themselves  as  those  Bo 
hemians.  It  's  delightful  to  see  such 
simplicity  of  motive.  I  should  think  Bo 
hemia  would  n't  be  complex  enough  for  the 
problem  novelist ;  but  I  suppose  he  goes, 
not  for  copy,  but  for  a  chance  to  talk  about 
his  copy." 

"  We  seem  to  have  lost  the  poet,"  prompted 
the  man  who  came  often. 

"  Oh,  no,  we  have  n't.  He  was  in  a  cor 
ner  alone,  his  eye  in  fine  frenzy  rolling— 
toward  me.  He  wrote  the  sonnet  on  the 
back  of  an  envelope  (addressed  to  him  in  a 
feminine  hand),  and  sent  it  over  to  me.  It 
was  my  second  that  day.  He  sat  up  late  the 
night  before  to  write  the  first  one.  This 
second  one  was  most  depressing.  It  seemed 
there  was  n't  even  a  faint  auroral  gleam  of 
sympathy  about  me.  I  smiled  on  all.  I  was 
la  belle  dame  sans  merci,  and  he  suffered 
cruelly. 

"  Later  he  recited  some  of  his  poems.  It 's 


203 

a  way  they  have  up  there,  a  Latin  Quarter 
importation,  and  part  of  the  mutual  relief." 

"  Beastly  hard  on  the  artists,  I  call  it," 
said  Bobby.  "  What  do  they  get  for  their 
money  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  just  talk  about  their  pictures. 
The  things  the  poet  recited  were  rather 
warm  for  a  July  evening,  Bobby.  He  went 
on  until  the  stoutest  held  his  breath,  for  fear 
that  he  would  n't  stop  in  time  to  avoid  a 
raid.  Swinburne  would  have  hidden  his 
diminished  head  and  thought  himself  a  cold- 
storage  plant  if  he  could  have  heard  my 
poet.  Everybody  drew  long  breaths  when 
he  had  finished.  Mrs.  Wallace  was  tremu 
lous  with  rapture.  '  What  temperament ! ' 
she  gasped. 

"  He  was  quite  prostrated  after  his  out 
burst.  So  were  we.  He  came  over  to  our 
table  and  apologized  for  being  silent.  The 
urge  of  song  is  a  masterful  thing,  he  says, 
and  leaves  a  man  limp." 

Bobby  grunted  discourteously. 

"  I  don't  like  your  being  in  it,"  he  said, 
with  a  certain  decisive  set  of  his  jaw. 

"  But  I  've  come  back  to  the  fold,  Bobby. 
I  wandered  after  strange  gods,  but  now  I 
dwell  in  the  tents  of  the  Philistines,  where 


204     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

the  conversation  wears  rubbers,  and  the  peo 
ple  only  do  disreputable  things.  They  draw 
the  line  at  singing  about  them. 

"There  was  another  poet  at  that  table 
d'hdte.  He  recited,  too,  but  he  was  n't  lurid. 
His  wife  said  his  poetry  had  a  wan,  moon- 
like  mystery.  He  told  me  that  he  and  a  few 
others  had  found  the  secret.  Bless  you,  I 
don't  know  what  secret.  '  Mallarme  was 
nearer  than  I,'  he  said  humbly.  Your  true 
great  man  is  always  modest,  Bobby.  But  his 
wife  smiled  and  shook  her  head.  It  was  all 
very  well  for  him  to  be  modest,  but  she  knew 
his  worth.  She  begged  the  problem  novelist 
to  help  wrap  her  poet  up.  They  tucked  a 
muffler  around  him,  and  put  him  into  a  cape 
that  made  him  look  like  an  anaemic  brigand. 
'  You  cant  know  what  a  responsibility  it  is  to 
have  the  care  of  such  a  sou/,'  she  said  to  me 
in  italics.  Then  she  took  him  home." 

"  Well,  at  any  rate,  they  were  married. 
I  thought  that  was  out  of  fashion  in  Bo 
hemia." 

"  Oh,  no,  Bobby.  You  're  all  wrong. 
Most  of  them  are  married,  but  they  are 
dreadfully  ashamed  of  it,  especially  if  they 
are  happily  married.  It  is  n't  so  bad  if  the 
marriage  is  a  tragedy  or  has  spoiled  a  life,  or 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY     205 

there  are  some  other  extenuating  circum 
stances.  There  usually  are.  The  poet  and 
the  lady  who  has  the  responsibility  of  caring 
for  such  a  soul  assure  every  one  that  they 
married  under  protest.  They  thought  it  a 
degradation  of  soul  union,  but  the  poet's 
publishers  would  have  it.  They  said  it  was 
hard  enough,  at  best,  to  float  his  books,  and 
the  American  public  would  n't  stand  for  an 
American  poet  who  personally  and  openly 
outraged  decency." 

"  They  do  these  things  better  in  France." 

"  I  did  meet  some  Bohemian  couples  who 
took  a  pose  of  transcendent  matrimonial 
bliss,  something  sort  of  subliminal  and  un 
earthly.  We  went  to  a  studio  supper  one 
night,  and  the  wife  stopped  us  in  the  vesti 
bule.  She  drew  the  curtains  behind  her, 
and  put  her  finger  on  her  lips.  She  did  n't 
say,  '  Hist !'  but  she  looked  it.  It  chilled 
our  blood.  We  were  on  the  verge  of  a 
stampede  when  she  whispered  : 

"  '  Hush  !  HE  is  speaking  of  his  art.' 

"  We  hushed. 

"  Was  n't  it  lovely  ?  " 

"  Was  n't  there  any  salt  in  Bohemia, 
Nancy?" 

"  Lots  of  it.     Frank,  jolly  young  fellows 


206     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

who  were  poor  as  church  mice,  but  pegging 
away  cheerfully  at  magazine  stories  and  illus 
tration  and  that  sort  of  thing.  They  were 
usually  married  and  proud  of  it ;  and  they 
talked  shop,  but  they  did  n't  believe  they 
were  the  cream  of  literature  and  art.  But 
they  are  n't  real  Bohemians.  They  don't 
assume  the  pose.  They  only  eat  the  cheap 
dinners." 

"  Wait  till  they  arrive/'  prophesied  Bobby 
darkly. 

"  If  they  arrive,  they  '11  shake  the  dust  of 
Bohemia  from  their  feet,  and  if  they  don't 
arrive,  they  wont  think  they  have  arrived. 
I  like  them.  They  have  a  sense  of  humor. 
That 's  why  they  don't  pose  as  Bohemians. 
Your  Bohemian,  so  called,  has  n't  really  a 
sense  of  humor.'  If  he  were  presented  with 
one,  it  would  be  another  case  of  Undine  and 
a  soul.  He  'd  flicker  and  go  out  at  once." 

"  But  about  that  poet  ?  He  seems  to  be 
a  wandering  minstrel." 

"  Oh,  yes,  the  poet.  He  lasted  four  weeks. 
I  went  out  to  dinner  with  him  often,  and 
we  met  in  the  Park  —  I  thought  you  never 
squirmed,  Bobby. 

"  It  was  a  trifle  hard  to  get  away  from 
'Any  and  'Arriet  in  the  afternoon,  but  a 


207 

glimpse  of  primitive  methods  only  accent 
uated  the  charm  of  esoteric  flirtation. 

"  Oh,  Bobby,  Bobby,  why  don't  you  talk 
to  me  about  star-cool  glances  and  shadow- 
girdled  brows  and  stirring  ghosts  of  dead 
dreams  ?  " 

"  Rot ! "  exclaimed  Bobby. 

"  Did  you  ever  notice  an  aureole  woven, 
flower-like,  in  my  hair  ?  " 

Bobby  eyed  the  fluffy  hair  anxiously. 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  are  n't  observing,  Bobby. 
That  aureole  has  been  seen." 

"  What  became  of  him  ?  " 

"  He  went  away 
One  summer  day," 

Nancy  chanted.  "It  was  in  August.  That 
was  the  only  graceful  Bohemian  thing  to  do. 
He  could  n't  go  on,  because  he  was  a  trifle 
afraid  of  me,  and  he  would  n't  go  back,  and 
there  was  no  fun  in  standing  still.  As  it  was, 
he  had  just  time  to  show  what  he  could  do 
in  the  way  of  reverential  love-making,  and 
then  there  was  a  golden  opportunity  for 
parting  and  despair  and  dumb  resignation. 
I  knew  the  resignation  was  dumb,  for  he  told 
me  all  about  it. 

"  I   was  left  with  the  twenty-six  sonnets 


208     THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY 

and  a  sweet  memory.  The  sonnets  are  to 
be  published  in  February,  so  his  time  was  n't 
wasted,  and  I  need  n't  reproach  myself.  Yet 
they  say  there  is  no  thrift  in  Bohemia. 

"  I  asked  one  of  my  nice  boys  why  the 
poet  fled.  He  said  the  old  chap  had  gone 
up  to  Harvard  to  see  his  oldest  son,  and 
after  that  was  going  to  Indiana  to  stay  with 
his  wife  and  family  until  his  creditors  got 
discouraged  and  quieted  down. 

"  Then  the  artist  —  but  that  's  another 
story  ;  and  were  n't  we  going  out  to  tea  ?  " 

Bobby  rose  from  the  couch,  rammed  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  and  stood  staring  out 
of  the  window  while  Nancy  put  on  her  hat 
and  veil. 

"Your -mother  ought  n't  to  allow  it,"  he 
said,  turning  around  and  speaking  very 
slowly  and  distinctly.  "  Yes,  you  may 
laugh,  but  you  ought  to  show  some  discre 
tion  in  your  whims.  That  sort  of  thing  is  n't 
wholesome.  It  is  n't  your  sort.  I  tell  you 
I  don't  like  it." 

Nancy  moved  toward  him.  He  fancied 
she  was  angry,  for  her  face  was  serious; 
but  he  stood  his  ground. 

"  I  don't  like  it,"  he  repeated  defiantly. 

Nancy  stood  quite  close  to  him. 


THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY      209 

"I  '11  tell  you  a  secret,"  she  said  very 
softly.  "  Neither  did  I."  Then  she  added 
inconsequently,  "  Oh,  you  nice,  clean,  sen 
sible,  ordinary  man  ! " 

There  was  a  queer  little  note  in  her  voice, 
Bobby  gave  the  beggar  at  the  corner  a 

dollar. 
14 


THE  WAY  OF  A  WOMAN 


211 


XI 

THE  WAY  OF  A  WOMAN 

A    FINISH 

NANCY  'S  at  home ;  I  Ve  seen  her." 
There  was  a  stir  on  the  club  verandah. 

The  young  woman  who  had  launched  the 
news  bomb  smiled  sweetly. 

The  five  men  who  had  at  one  time  or 
another  proposed  to  Nancy  looked  anywhere 
save  at  their  fiancees  and  wives.  The  one 
man  who  had  proved  immune  showed  a 
lively  interest. 

"Has  she  changed ?" 

"  Um-m-m,  yes.  Pretty  as  ever,  you  know, 
and  charming,  but  different." 

"  Rum  go,  her  marrying  a  poor  man  at 
last  and  trotting  off  to  South  America  with 
him.  I  wonder  if  she 's  sorry." 

The  five  men  hoped  she  was. 

The  girl  who  had  seen  Nancy  shook  her 
head  emphatically. 

"  Sorry  ?  Sorry  ?  —  why  she 's  maudlin, 
positively  maudlin  about  Bobby  and  the 
baby." 

213 


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